


Exodus

by One More Disaster (NurseBadass)



Category: Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 05:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseBadass/pseuds/One%20More%20Disaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of the Gregory Maguire Wicked Years, AU. The Philosophy Club is everything it's rumored to be; disgusting and filthy with unspeakable acts happening in every corner. What Fiyero Tigelaar didn't expect was to find an enchanting emerald woman locked away in the basement, a slave to the club's mysterious owners. Warnings for non-con, captivity, physical abuse, and language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For all of the raving his friends had gone on about the place, The Philosophy Club looked less than captivating. The rickety building stood hidden amongst a narrow alleyway, large panels covering up the windows, keeping passerby from looking in.

 

Or perhaps it was to keep the patrons from looking out.

 

Fiyero hung back as Avaric dug through his pockets for a wad of money to pay for their entrance. He glanced back at the Arjiki prince as if he somehow should have been financially responsible for this little jaunt but the idea was far from being Fiyero’s.

 

Though he’d never admit it, however, Fiyero was slightly curious about the claims of the creature rumored to be captive of the Philosophy club; the one they claimed was the pure embodiment of evil.

 

One that was like no other.

 

In his travels from Kiamo Ko, Fiyero had encountered many species. He was almost certain that the claims came from those who had never traveled outside the walls of Shiz, never encountered culture outside of the hustle and bustle of urban life.

 

Once they stepped inside, they were immediately relieved of their topcoats and ushered towards a theater. They were overwhelmed by the thick smog of pipe tobacco, the sounds of drinks crashing together and laughter. At first it seemed to be nothing more than a bar. A loud one at that. The patronage was varied, Animals and munchkinlanders, students from the local Universities tucked in the corner. The music played loudly and scantily clad women pulled the boys from their chairs one by one.

 

When Fiyero was approached, the lone man left at his table, he held up his hand to refuse her. This environment was new to him and he was still absorbing it, studying it carefully. He found little to be desired in the activities buzzing about him, it all seemed so meaningless.

 

“You’re such a downer, Fiyero,” Avaric called out, “try living a little!”

 

The corner of his mouth twitched upward and he shrugged ever so slightly, having no response to offer. Perhaps he was a so-called downer, but he was content to observe.

 

Precisely one hour after their admission into the club, a set of large oak doors opened and they were escorted into another room, this time it was a theater style room, the walls painted to simulate their descent into purgatory. _Now_ Fiyero was interested, his eyes darting around the room. There were partitions, separating him from his friends. He could hear Tibbett carrying on, clearly drunk on the brew being served in the previous parlor.

 

Dimly, he was aware of participants being called to the stage, drawn out of their seats by erotic music and the promise of pleasure. His eyes had fixated at the corner of the stage, awaiting the next part of the show, if there was one.

 

Perhaps the evil spoken of was not a true embodiment but simply the loose morals associated with the establishment.

 

Just then, there was a slight tap against his shoulder and Fiyero turned in the direction of the physical intrusion. An old woman stood aside him, dark eyes sparkling with suggestion and invitation, “I know what you seek, boy.”

 

His brow rose ever so slightly, “And what exactly is that?”

 

Rather than providing him with a verbal answer, the woman grasped his wrist tightly and pulled him from his seat, “Purgatory isn’t it. What you seek is in the very bowels of hell,” she hissed, leading him away from his friends and the mischief on stage.

  
It crossed his mind only once that perhaps he should struggle against her, question the motives of the woman leading him into the ‘bowels of hell’ but curiosity had gotten the best of him. They arrived at black door that looked to be forged from steel, a cage to contain the evil beyond it.

 

“There’s a price to be paid if you wish to proceed,” the woman’s hand slipped from around his wrist and she extended her palm outward, “if you pay, you play.”

 

“And what exactly am I playing with?” He asked warily, reaching into his pockets.

 

The woman took his money without answering and opened the door. Before he could press her for an answer, she shoved him inside and slammed the door with a cackle.

 

 _Now_ he was nervous. He stood flattened against the wall, overwhelmed by the darkness. There was movement across the room from him, a dim light that his eyes would not adjust to, “Who’s there?”

 

He heard no answer, only the unmistakable sound of metal raking against metal, shackles. His eyes narrowed slightly and he mustered the courage to move away from the door and towards the light. He studied the light, made out the chains draped along the floor and followed them to what looked to be a very human foot, discolored by the glow of the room.

 

Or perhaps it wasn’t a trick of the light.

 

Now he moved toward the figure, entranced by the viridian skin entwined in silver chains. Was this the so-called embodiment of evil? His eyes danced quickly over the bared flesh, as if not looking somehow gave the woman before him privacy.

 

“Well, are you just going to stare?” Her voice wasn’t alluring in the least. It was the same as her body, weary, used, and defeated.

 

“I apologize,” he answered softly, kneeling next to her, yearning to see the face buried beneath the long locks of raven hair, “I get that too. Here in Shiz, anyway.”

In her young life, she had learned not to let curiosity get the best of her. It typically came with a quite painful cost, “Would you like me to feel sorry for you?”

 

Fiyero shook his head, “No. I wouldn’t,” he paused a moment, “I would like you to look at me though.”

 

“Well isn’t that nice,” she spat, still looking down. Of course he’d be one of those creeps, the ones who wanted to watch her.

 

“Is it?” He asked genuinely, “Do people not want to see your face?”

 

The question in his tone caused her to raise her eyes ever so slightly. She focused on ochre fingertips, pressed into the ground only inches from her body, a trail of blue diamonds beginning at the wrist and leading up over well-defined arms. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she continued to raise her eyes until finally the met his, as crystalline in color as the diamonds adorning his body.

 

For a long moment he held his breath, eyes fixated on hers. They were a beautiful brown, full of life and yet so empty at the same time. The woman before him was far from evil, she was simply a trapped soul, “Do…do you have a name?”

 

“Yeah. It’s Satan,” she answered flatly, pulling her eyes from his, “are you just going to make small talk the entire time?”

 

“What else am I supposed to do?”

 

“The same thing everybody else comes here to do.”

 

He allowed himself to glance at her body for a moment, saw the bruises along her hips and her thighs, the signs that her fate was far worse than being used as a display of evil, “I’d rather know your name.”

 

Her patron seemed more tedious than most, even though he was keeping a respectable distance, “It’s of no consequence.”

 

Fiyero relented, drawing his attention to her chains instead, “They are part of the show?”

 

The woman looked down to the shackles he motioned towards, shook her head slightly against her better judgment but neglected to answer that she wasn’t part of the show, nor was she a main attraction.

 

“You are here against your will?”

 

Unwilling to answer any more questions about the circumstances of her presence, she finally answered his initial question, “It’s Elphaba. My name.”

 

“Elphaba,” Fiyero repeated slowly, her name as enchanting as she was, “I’m Fiyero. Fiyero Tigelaar.”

 

An awkward silence hung between them for a moment before he spoke again, “It is unfortunate that we have met under these circumstances.”

 

The sheer stupidity of his remark stirred something in her, an unfamiliar emotion and the corner of her mouth turned up slightly. She wasn’t sure at first if he was being genuine or if he’d had too much to drink but now she was fully aware that his mannerism weren’t an act of intoxication.

 

He was serious.

 

Fiyero smiled at the slight change of expression, “Why do they call you evil?”

 

“Why do people stare at you?”

 

“I am something different from what they are used to.”

 

“Then you needn’t ask.”

 

“They do not call me evil, though.”

 

“You’re not green.”

 

“I’ve always thought of green as a placid color, not one indicating maleficence or calamitous,” he countered, “green is the color of life and good.”

 

“I’m not good, nor am I alive.”

 

“You’re breathing,” he reached out, brushed his fingertips against the top of her hand and apologized softly when she flinched, “I do not mean to frighten you. I’m sorry,” his fingertips continued to her wrist at the pulse point and lingered for a few moments, “Your heart beats. Does that not indicate life?”

 

“It indicates life. It does not indicate living.”

 

“I understand.”

 

Elphaba shook her head, “Nobody will ever understand that. Not until they have experienced it.”

 

“What was before this?”

  
Before Elphaba could answer, there was a loud knocking against the door and a warning to stay silent and get on with their business. Fearing for the punishment that would come, Elphaba reached out to Fiyero, pulled at him, “Just be done with what you came for. There will be much for me to suffer if you do not.”

 

Still fully clothed, Fiyero hovered over her, unmoving, “I do not wish you to suffer. By their hand or mine,” he moved his head down to soft skin between her shoulder and ear, “they will not know,” he whispered against her flesh, reaching down to adjust his pants as to insinuate that he was following the rules but not truly doing so.

 

Elphaba closed her eyes, the flesh at the corners stinging. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything but empty. She preferred emptiness to the sudden sadness that overwhelmed her now. His breath tickled her skin and she shivered slightly.

 

“I will come to you again, Elphaba,” he promised in no more than a whisper against her neck. The door opened behind them, leaving her no opportunity to respond that he should not. Her eyes remained fixed on his as an Ox pulled him from the ground as he adjusted his pants, a slight blush of embarrassment to his cheeks that she may have seen something.

 

When the door closed, she looked back down at the ground, willing the feeling of lifelessness to reenter her body before the next patron was shoved into the room.

 

\--

 

“Fiyero!” Avaric cried out, smacking his friend hard between the shoulders, “Where in Oz name have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you.”

 

“Where were you?”

 

“In the theater, where you should have been.”

 

“I suppose I got lost,” Fiyero shrugged it off as they were escorted towards the door. There was no mention of what occurred in the theater from his friends and he neglected to mention Elphaba. Though Tibbett insisted that they were never going to return to the club, Fiyero knew otherwise.

 

He would see Elphaba again.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Fiyero lurched forward at the sharp pain against the back of his head. He reached up with a slight scowl to rub the spot before turning to Avaric, “That was for-“

 

“Not being here, of course,” his companion replied with a smirk, “you’re gone. Again.”

 

“I’m right here as I have always been.”

 

Avaric shook his head, “We left you outside the Philosophy Club. You’re worse than Tibbett with the Ti-“

Tibbett slammed his hand down on the table to interrupt Avaric, “I told you to stop talking about that. It was the club. It was something in the drink. It was not _me_ , I’m telling you.”

 

Avaric only laughed in response, “I hear you’re a real Animal in the sack.”

 

Tibbett’s face turned a furious shade of red, rivaling the deep ochre of Fiyero’s skin tone, “Drop it.”

 

Sensing another fight brewing on the subject, Fiyero interjected, “They don’t really have the most unspeakable evil there.”

 

“I think if you ask our friend Tibbett, he’d disagree.”

 

“Avaric! Forget it happened!”

 

“I want to go back.”

 

Both men turned to look at their foreign friend, certain that they had misheard him, “You want to go back? What? You want a go at the Tiger like Tibbett had?”

 

Tibbett was too astonished to acknowledge Avaric’s continued badgering, “You must be crazy.”

 

“The unspeakable evil,” Fiyero spoke again, “she’s not evil. She’s just,” what was the best way to explain her? Explain _Elphaba_. Her name had resounded in his mind over and over from the moment he learned it. Her eyes haunted his dreams, the memory his every waking moment.

 

“Ah, _that’s_ why he wants to go back. He’s found himself a girlfriend.”

 

“I’m pretty sure that any girlfriend you find there will give you the rot in your pants,” Tibbett harrumphed loudly, bitter about the entire experience, and rightfully so.

 

“Tell us about this she, then,” Avaric prodded, “have you seen her again?”

 

“She’s the unspeakable evil,” Fiyero attempted to explain.

 

“I thought you said she wasn’t?”

“He’s obviously confused. Love cloud’s ones judgement. Does funny things to their intelligence.” It was Tibbett’s turn to tease now.

 

“Love?”

 

The voice was an unwelcome intrusion in their conversation but a lovely one nonetheless, “Lady Galinda,” Avaric spoke, rising.

 

She rewarded him with a look of pure disgust before taking a seat aside Fiyero, “Who is in love?”

 

“Nobody,” Tibbett quickly answered, wanting no disclosure of their little jaunt, “it was simply a discussion about love. And why it’s a bad, _bad_ idea. One that should be discarded immediately.”

 

Fiyero shook his head, “No. I want to go back. They call her evil but she’s not. She’s the opposite of evil. She doesn’t deserve to be there.”

 

“Most teenage girls don’t want to be at home,” Galinda stated matter-of-factly, “and let’s face it, we can be a little bit evil sometimes.”

 

“That’s for sure,” Avaric chimed in, “but he’s not talking about that. He’s talking about the evil thingy at the Philosophy Club.”

 

“The Philosophy Club?” Galinda looked shocked, “You went to the Philosophy Club?”

 

Silence lingered between the boys, eyes silently chiding Avaric. Finally, Fiyero spoke, “It was my idea. I wanted to see what the unspeakable evil was. I’ve seen so much in my travels I was certain that it was something I had seen before. It was not but it is somebody I want to see again.”

 

“Oh,” Galinda said softly, “Fiyero, you probably don’t want to see somebody there. Unspeakable things may happen to..to…” it was unlady like to tell him that _things_ would probably fall off if he were to become serious with somebody from a place like that, “It’s best you just forget her.”

 

Frustrated, Fiyero raised a hand to his brow, “No. She’s not one of them. She’s trapped there. The things they’re doing. I want to go back because I want to free her.”

 

Avaric nearly choked on the healthy serving of saffron cream he’d just licked from the spoon, “You want to take something _out_ of the Philosophy Club? Now I know you’re nuts.”

 

“They’ve put people to death for such things.”

  
“I would risk it.” Fiyero answered in defiance, “Nobody deserves that. I can keep her someplace safe if I can just get her out of there.”

 

“And taking her from one prison to place her in another is beneficial how?” Avaric grinned, sure that his witty demeanor would finally derive the attention he deserved from the Lady Galinda.

 

“That’s quite possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Galinda sighed, “you should take note. He’s willing to risk his life for a girl. Chivalry at its finest.”

 

Avaric rolled his eyes, “Or stupidity at its strongest.”

 

Galinda nodded solemnly, “Love does make us do stupid things.”

 

“It isn’t love. It’s doing what’s right,” Fiyero interjected, “She was beautiful, though. Breathtaking. Unlike any other I’ve ever seen.”

 

Avaric leaned over, as if to tell a secret, “That sounds like love. At the very least, it’s attraction. Think with the head on your shoulders, Fiyero. You can’t go back to that place. None of us will go with you.”

 

“I’ll go,” Galinda said, sitting up straighter.

 

“What?” Avaric asked, surprised, “It’s a suicide mission. They’re likely to have both of your heads. They’ll hang them at the gate as warning to the next idiots that try.”

 

Fiyero looked hopeful, “Galinda, how goes your sorcery seminars? Have you been able to learn anything useful.”

 

“I’m still a novice,” she answered sheepishly, “well, more of an intermediate novice. I have much more talent than those that I’m in class with.”

 

“A novice won’t do. We need somebody powerful,” Fiyero answered, standing from the table. “We meet again here on Friday evening.”

 

“And where are you going? We weren’t done,” Tibbett protested, “We have other plans to make!”

 

“Not now. There are more important things at hand.”

 

Fiyero did not wait another moment before disappearing into the crowd of people on the street. He moved with intention towards the eastern border of Shiz. Whether or not the old woman actually existed, he was not sure. She may not have been more than a rumor but if she was real, and he prayed to the so-called Unnamed God that she was, she may be able to help him.

 

\--

 

The eastern border of Shiz was far less glamorous than its three siblings. The streets were littered with students who had failed at the various Universities but refused to go home, whether it be out of shame or defiance. The occasional coin dropped into empty mugs, punctuated by a curse of the recipient.

 

It was never enough.

 

Fiyero looked for the small red shanty that had been described to him, shrouded in pots of unusual plants. For a fleeting moment he felt as if he was part of a children’s tale that he’d heard from his parents growing up, looking for the lair of the evil witch. His tale was different, though. He wasn’t seeking the help of a witch for his own needs.

 

His intentions were honest and selfless.

 

Mostly.

 

“The building you seek is not there,” a familiar voice said from behind. Fiyero turned to find the old crone from the Philosophy Club, “it’s this way.”

 

Fiyero pulled his arm away, “You. I know you.”

 

“And I know you, and what you seek. It can be done. Yackle will help you.”

 

“Yackle,” Fiyero said in a low tone. So she _was_ real, “Yes. I need Yackle.”

 

“Then you’ve got her, you young fool. This way.” Over broken cobbles and passed out drunks, she led Fiyero down a twisted path. He felt as if he had lost all sense of direction, East became West, North became South. The slum swirled around him until they came to a jarring stop and he was sitting at a table with the old woman.

 

A knowing grin spread over her lips as she stirred a pot of tea, “Tell me why you’re here, boy.”

 

Confused, Fiyero looked around, trying to regain his senses. He looked around the room, still not certain of how he had arrived there. His eyes focused at a doorway across the room from him. It looked like the doorway at the Philosophy Club, “You said you knew why,” he answered slowly, finally drawing his eyes back to her. “Where are we?”

 

“You know where we are.”

 

“I thought I did,” he said, “but that door. That door is not where we are. That door is from the club.”

 

“For every entrance, there is an exit.”

 

Fiyero immediately stood up, “There’s an exit and you’ve just left her there? Let her out. She doesn’t want to be there.”

 

“Elphaba does not know wants or needs. She only exists.”

 

“Then you do not know her,” he answered, still standing over the woman, still poised to open the door himself if the woman would not help him.

 

“Are you proposing that you do, foolish boy? After only a few moments?”

 

“More than you claim to.”

 

“I have known Elphaba since she was an infant. I have known the hopes of her mother and father, their disappointments and failures. All laid in her. I know more of Elphaba than one could hope to ever know.” Her words were pointed at him and she took hold of his wrist, “Sit down.”

 

“Where are her parents? They cannot be agreeable to these conditions.”

 

“Her family are of important station. To them, she no longer exists. Elphaba’s story, the public story, is a one of tragedy and overwhelming sadness.”

 

“And her story now?”

 

“Unknown to anybody of importance,” Yackle said, her voice low and grainy, as aged as she was, “And yet, you’re interested. Why?”

 

Try as though he might, Fiyero couldn’t verbalize what it was about the situation, what it was about Elphaba. Certainly he’d seen inequities before, many times over. Even in his own kingdom where he sat in a palace never knowing what it meant to go without while so many of his people lived in poverty. He was no stranger to class or lack thereof.

 

She was beautiful, and her _skin_ , the color of emeralds. He had never seen beauty like hers but still, he didn’t feel it was the answer.

 

“You don’t know,” Yackle finally said for him, “but I do.”

 

“You do?”

 

When she dipped her head in a slow nod, Fiyero would swear that he heard every single vertebrae in her neck break loose, cracking as if she may break right there. He tilted his own head to the side, awaiting her explanation.

 

“Elphaba,” she said in a hushed tone, “she is your fate.”

 

Fiyero raised his head, looking down at the woman as he evaluated the words. Elphaba was his fate? How could she be his fate? And what sort of fate was she? The word fate itself carried so many connotations; death, life, everything in between.

 

“She is my death,” he concluded, “my friends feel that it is something of a suicide mission to-“ Fiyero fell short then, afraid to give away what he wanted to do, despite the fact that the old woman seemed to already know.

 

“Fate reaches beyond death.”

 

“Then how do I fulfill that fate when she is out of my reach?” It was the easiest way to ask how to free her without asking how to free her.

 

“You will come back to the Philosophy Club. One week from this day. Bring the same party, along with the short one and the woman. Be as prepared as you might. An opportunity will present itself. You must not hesitate or all could be lost. Lives included.”

 

Fiyero had already verbalized his willingness to risk his life but talking his friends into doing the same would not be so easy.

 

Yackle stood then, walked over to the door that he had watched in silence for so long and pulled it open. It was but a simple cupboard. She smiled at his confusion, “I said every entrance has an exit. I did not say that this was hers. No go about your business, boy. I have too much of my own.”

 

Without explanation, mere moments later, Fiyero was standing at the gates of Shiz University as if he hadn’t even traveled to the eastern boundaries. He blinked twice, the conversation still fresh in his mind.

 

Elphaba was his fate.

 


	3. Chapter 3

She lay limp in the glow of the oil lamps, her body damp with somebody else’s perspiration. Her eyes were open, turned in the direction of the flickering fire but staring through it. If one didn’t know her, they’d assume that she was dead.

 

Those who knew her knew that she _was,_ perhaps not physically but her spirit had perished long ago.

 

It was of no consequence.

 

Except to one.

 

The sound of a heavy steel bar settling into its place resounded throughout the small chamber, a lock to her prison. She only blinked at the sound, only stared through the flame until the shadow of the old woman appeared through it. Elphaba’s eyes closed then.

 

“Do not lay there so,” her voice crackled as the fire, “for your cavalry is coming.”

 

There was no response from the form beneath her. Yackle used an old knobby walking stick to poke at her with it, “Find your fight, dearie. You’re going to need it.”

 

\--

 

Boq shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other. He had a bouquet of flowers clutched in one hand, so much so that some of the stems were breaking, in the other a letter, rumpled and sweaty from his palms.

 

“Sit back boys, this should be entertaining,” Avaric grinned to Crope and Tibbett.

 

“He’s trying again? Is he ever going to give up?” Crope snorted, “He’s pathetic.”

 

“Not as bad as that one,” Tibbett jerked his finger over his shoulder at Fiyero, who seemed to be mulling over some sort of book, “since when has he taken up studying?”

 

“He’s got a sudden interest in the layout of Shiz,” Avaric replied dryly, eyes still trained on the spot where Galinda would appear with Shen Shen and Pfannee any moment now.

 

Fiyero glanced up from the book briefly, a history on the Southstairs and the extensions that led from the Emerald City, particularly the extensions that led into some very specific places in Shiz. He hadn’t found the book on his own; rather it had been delivered into his custody by a dwarf without a name, accompanied by some tiktok mechanism that reminded him of Morrible’s Grommetik.

 

The events of the previous day were vague and fading by the moment. Only one thing remained clear in his mind.

 

 _Elphaba_.

The book was pulled from his hands and he looked up, face still contorted in concentration. His eyes came to focus on Avaric’s face.

 

“You’re missing the show. The munchkin is about to make a fool of himself again and you’re studying geographics. You’ve lost your mind.”

 

Fiyero shrugged sheepishly, “It’s an old show.”

 

“What is this anyway?”

 

“Just a book.”

 

“You’ve been torn up about this girl for too long. I think what you need is a night out on the town,” Avaric said, his eyes suggesting misdeed but his smile suggesting innocence, “maybe a trip to the Philosophy Club.”

 

Tibbett’s slouched posture perked up at the suggestion, “The Philosophy Club? The stories about that place are-“  
  


“Scandalous. In every sense of the word and it’s no place for a lady,” Galinda finished for Tibbett, “I insist we go.”

 

Shen Shen and Pfannee were nodding eagerly in agreement, tittering on about the stories that they’ve heard, the conversation quickly fading to what they would wear.

 

Tibbett prodded Boq in the side, “C’mon shortstuff. You know you want to come along too.”

 

“I have not heard good things about that place at all.”

  
“I want to check out if all the things I’ve heard about that place is true,” the boy grinned in response, “because I think it sounds great.”

 

Fiyero stood abruptly, “Tibbett, you’ve _been_. You can’t have forgotten…y’know, _that_.”

 

Avaric’s brow raised in surprise, “Fiyero, you’ve been? And without us?”

 

“No, we’ve-“ he started but his voice broke. It was part of the plan, this sudden turn of events. A plan he didn’t understand but one that was working out to his advantage thus far, “You’re right. I’ve gone without you. Sorry.”

 

The group flooded him with questions, asking about what it was like inside and what they should wear but his mind was already elsewhere.

 

 _Elphaba was his fate_.

\--

 

“Couldn’t it at least be a little bit cleaner?” Galinda commented, pulling her bedazzled wrap tighter around her body.

 

“You don’t know what the inside looks like,” Tibbett shrugged, “it might look like a palace.”

 

Boq put an arm around Galinda’s waist, pulling her close, “We could go somewhere else.”

 

Galinda stepped out of his grasp, “I’ll take my chances with Tibbett’s wagers, thank you though.”

 

Shen Shen allowed Avaric to put his arm around her waist, guiding her inside and they were given playing cards, the six of clubs. Fiyero was given the joker.

 

“That card is off,” Avaric remarked, “especially lately.”

 

“Things will change tonight,” Fiyero promised his companion. A lot of things would change tonight, it was just what he couldn’t say for sure.

 

The same mixture of Animal and human littered the club but the mood was different, it was more subdued than their previous trip. The music had changed from a thumping electric mix to a softer sound out of a wooden pipe. A Snake danced on the stage, each sway and curve hypnotizing the crowd as they watched.

 

Fiyero watched with a degree of amusement as the rest of the crowd seemed to sway along. He looked down at the card in his hand, studying the picture on it. Perhaps he was a fool for attempting this, perhaps being here would only end in his demise.

 

The six of clubs was called along with the eight of hearts and the two of diamonds, giving Fiyero his perfect opportunity for exit. He would come back another time with an actual plan, not what had been laid out for him.

 

A firm grasp was placed on his shoulders and he was held in place, “What you seek is not here,” a voice spoke whispered, “do not hesitate, young man. So much is at stake.”

 

Fiyero spun but saw nobody behind him, he turned again for good measure and found himself before the door, the haunting music now flooding his ears. “She is your fate,” the voice whispered again, “open it.”

 

The door slid open with some protest and he slipped inside the dimly lit room. He closed the door firmly behind him, searching for some sort of lock or bolt. Certainly it had to lock from the inside but the sound of a heavy metal latch from the outside startled him from searching any further.

 

There she was, the girl haunting his dreams. The name echoing through his head.

 

“Elphaba,” he said her name in no more than a whisper, “Elphaba, it’s me, Fiyero. Do you remember?” He felt foolish, asking somebody he had only meant once in his life if they remembered him. He was no more memorable than any other patron that had been through here, save for his appearance.

 

Brown eyes lifted to meet him, the same emptiness that was there before, “I remember,” her voice was soft, almost trembling, “the diamonds.”

 

He smiled slightly, extending a hand to her, “The diamonds.”

 

Elphaba did not take his hand, instead flinched slightly when he extended it. Nobody had ever touched her in an endearing way and she knew better to touch anybody who pretended that they wanted to, “Why are you here again?”

 

Once again, he felt sheepish. This is not how he’d pictured his valiant rescue of her. Or even his silent escape with her, “You shouldn’t be here. In this place.”

 

“It’s the only place I’ve ever been,” she answered, watching him as he studied her shackles. She drew her leg back slightly when he reached for the cuff around her ankle, “Those don’t come off.”

 

Fiyero looked up at her, his hand hovering over her ankle, “I know you have no reason to but please…trust me.”

 

Every muscle in her body was tense as she watched his hand reach out, fingertips grazing her dirty skin around the cuff. He pulled them apart with ease, laughed slightly and then reached for the other one. Her eyes widened slightly and she looked at the ones around her wrists, “The old woman. She locked them earlier.”

 

“Or unlocked them,” he answered, reaching for her wrists and undoing them one by one. He slipped his jacket from his shoulders and rather than trying to wrap it around her, he offered it to her, “I’m afraid you’ll get a lot of looks if you leave like that.”

 

“Won’t I get a lot of looks anyway?”

 

“We’ll deal with it as we need to,” he assured her, standing up and checking the door. There had been no indication that it was yet unlocked. He walked to the corner of the room, a small tattered blanket and a pathetic pillow made into a makeshift bed. He pulled them away, looking for the door marked in the book that he was given. It wasn’t an immediately obvious door, no certain sign of escape, just a mere discontinuity of the wooden floor.

 

He knelt, used a small knife from a sheath in his shoe to pry the corner of the door, working it open quietly. He felt her eyes on his back and he smiled to himself.

 

Maybe it could be a valiant rescue after all.

 

Fiyero turned to her then, extended his hand, “Just trust me. Please. I want to take you from this place.”

 

“Where does it go?”

 

“A place not much better than this but after that, after that will be much better. Please, Elphaba. Let me do this for you.”

 

She started to question why but heard the bolt on the door, she scampered across the floor as quickly as she could. She wasn’t used to moving much, let alone quickly. There were punishments for running away from customers; she could only imagine that if they caught her trying to make an escape that she would be put to death.

 

A blessing so long as they didn’t make it slow and torturous.

 

Fiyero lifted her into his arms, noting every emaciated muscle tensing in her body, “I’m not going to hurt you, Elphaba. I promise.” He pulled the handle of the door down with his free hand, used his weight combined with hers to pull the door back into the groove. There was a large bar with which to lock the door above them and he did so.

 

It was far too convenient, how it had all fallen into place for him. Them now.

 

He turned to her, watched as she adjusted the jacket he’d given her, trying to keep herself covered completely, “We’ll find you some clothes,” he promised her, his voice still just slightly a whisper.

 

Elphaba looked at him, eyes as empty as they had been in the chamber above them, “I don’t understand why.”

 

“I needed to,” he answered simply, unable to describe why. For the first time he looked up to observe their new surroundings. It had dawned on him that while he had prepared himself for their escape that he failed to plan how they were going to find their way to the opposite side of the Southstairs, to the tunnel that would take them north towards Gillikin. Was it the opposite side of the underground city or the adjacent side?

 

He could hear footsteps above them, heavy and angry and he pulled her away from the door, “Come on, we have to go.”

 

Elphaba moved as quickly as she could alongside him, getting away from the door and the people who would likely kill her just above it. There was precious light guiding their footsteps and many times she stumbled. Her heart was pounding in her ear, her lungs burning as she struggled to keep up with him. Again she fell, this time hitting the ground hard, “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

 

Fiyero stopped long enough to lift her from the ground, carry her as best he could, “We just have to get away from the door. We get away from the door and then we can slow down.”

 

She wanted to ask him what would happen after that but she was too exhausted and too scared to ask. Elphaba allowed her head to rest against his shoulder and she closed her eyes.

 

She wasn’t certain that he knew what would happen either.


	4. Chapter 4

It was hard for Elphaba, trying to determine which fate was more terrifying. Certainly the life she’d been sentenced to in the Philosophy Club was not a life at all. She’d been abused for as long as she could remember, sold to the highest paying customer and forced to bend to their will. There were punishments, even when she did listen.

Indeed much of her life had been unspeakable.

However, it was what she knew, what she was used to.

Now she stood with a boy she did not know, in the dark and dank underground city he kept calling the Southstairs. The name made no sense to her as the word ‘stairs’ insinuated there were some form of escape. If she were to name it, she’d have called it purgatory for clearly, there was no way out.

The trapdoor to the Philosophy Club was far behind them, or at least they believed so. Every street looked like the next as they navigated through the darkness. When they came to what seemed to be the same intersection of tunnels for what had to be the fifth time, Elphaba finally stopped Fiyero.

“We’re going to die here, aren’t we?” It was less of a question, more of a statement.

“Nobody is dying,” he answered, frustrated, “we’ll get out of here. We just have to find the way out. That’s all.”

Elphaba looked around them, trying to find something, anything, that was different from what they’d seen before, “You should have left me there.”

Fiyero recoiled slightly, tension mounting through his frustration, “You’re welcome.”

“I’m simply saying that we’re lost. We’re in a place that neither one of us are going to get out of and for what?” she asked, “What’s the point?”

“Your _freedom_?”

“This isn’t freedom. This is just an earlier grave. For both of us. You had a life, presumably, and now you’ve wasted it on me, on somebody you don’t even know. It’s not worth it.”

He studied her as best he could through the dim light, trying to remind himself of what she’d been through. Fiyero couldn’t even to begin to imagine the horrors of her life, “Elphaba. I-I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I saw you and I _knew_ that I had to get you out of that place. I don’t know why and I don’t know what it means but it was something I had to do. So just stop. Stop saying that you’re not worth it because however long or short my life may be, you are my fate.”

Whatever that meant, Fiyero thought to himself. He could remember so little of the maps and of the short amount of planning he’d done but he could still remember Yackle’s words clearly.

Elphaba had no response for his words. What could she say to him? She flinched when she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist and she quickly pulled her arms away, “Don’t touch me.” She paused a second and then added, “Please.”

He nodded slightly, mentally chiding himself for doing so. He’d been around her long enough to know that she was skittish when it came to physical contact and rightfully so. It was highly unlikely that anyone had ever touched her with innocent intention, “We’ll go this way.”

Resigning to the fact that the fool wasn’t going to give up, Elphaba followed behind him quietly. She was powerless to do anything else.

xx

“Until this morning,” Galinda pronounced amongst her peers, “I don’t believe I’ve ever truly had a throbbing headache.”

Avaric tried to laugh off the comment as if he had been immune to the effects of the prior evening’s debauchery but he couldn’t muster the energy, “We need to find a new place to enjoy an evening out.”

The collective grumbled in agreement, trying to pull themselves together. Tibbett and Crope were in various stages of undress, tangled in each other’s limbs and Pfannee eyed them warily, “Does anybody actually remember what happened last night?”

Galinda couldn’t even shake her head to answer. She’d never quite had a headache like this one. Her eyes lifted to the group and she tried to assess the situation as best she could. After a brief moment of surveying their group she sat up straighter, “Where’s Fiyero?”

Boq looked up at Galinda in confusion, “What’s a Fiyero?”

“Come now, Boq. I know that you didn’t indulge in that much alcohol last night,” she paused, “as a matter of fact, I know you didn’t. You were practically perched on my shoulder.”

“And he still didn’t get lucky,” quipped Avaric in a tone that was a far cry from his typical brand of arrogance.

Galinda shot a look at Avaric, “I’m being serious. We’re missing one of our own. Where is Fiyero? Has anybody seen him since we were at the club.”

The rest of the group shared a silent exchange of glances before Avaric finally spoke up, “Galinda, maybe we need to get you back to the university.”

“I’m not going anywhere until somebody answers me,” she refuted, doing her best to appear as if she would not be moved by words or force.

After another period of awkward silence, Boq was the one who finally mustered the courage to speak, “Galinda, we don’t know anybody named Fiyero.”

xx

The sound of rushing water flooded the tunnels and Fiyero laughed, “Do you hear that? Do you hear?”

Fiyero ran ahead to the end of the tunnel, towards the source of the sound. Finally, something new. They were making progress. He wasn’t sure where the path would lead them but at least it was a new path, “Elphaba, come! I told you we were going to get out of here.”

Just as he had asked, she came, her steps wary rather than excited. She stayed a fair distance from the ledge, “This isn’t a way out. It’s a dead end.”

“No, no. Can’t you see? The water is moving that way. Water does not flow without reason. Our escape must be that way.” Fiyero looked along the water’s edge, “Look. Another walk. On the other side. We just have to cross.”

Elphaba shook her head, backing away, “I can’t. I- we have to find another way. There has to be another way.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a little bit of water. Surely you’re not afraid of water, after everything you’ve been through,” he chided.

“It’s not a ridiculous fear!” She snapped at him, the first real sign of anger that he’d ever seen from her. She unsnapped the jacket he’d given her in an exaggerated manner and turned away from him to expose her bare back. Scars splayed over her emerald flesh appearing as rain drops would upon pavement.

Fiyero stood, observing the marks. Finally he spoke, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“How could you?”

He looked to the path across the water. Their escape was so close, yet so very far- if it were even an escape, “It’s our only way out.”

“It’s your only way out,” she answered, staying back, “you can go. You should go.”

“Not without you,” he shook his head. Fiyero surveyed the water once again and then began to toe off his boots, “Here. Put these on. This too,” he added, pulling off his shirt. “We’ll cover you the best we can. You can stay on my shoulders. You’re light. We’ll get across.”

“No. No, I can’t. What happens if I fall in?” She protested, back against the wall, “Fiyero, if I fall in that water-“

It was the first time she had called him by name and it struck a chord with him. He held out his hand for hers, “I would never let you fall.”

She remained glued against the wall, eyes trained on the water.

“Elphaba,” he murmured gently, “please. Trust me.”

“With my life?”

“Haven’t you already?” Fiyero countered, nudging the boots toward her. He walked to the ledge, peering down into the water. There was only one way to gage the water’s depth, which he prayed was shallow. He glanced back at her for a brief moment before jumping into the water.

Elphaba ran to the ledge, eyes darting about for him. He quickly surfaced but she felt very little relief, if any at all. There was still the matter of getting across. The visceral memory of the last time water hit her flesh was far too recent.

“It’s not too deep,” he said, reaching out to her, “and it’s not wide. I’ll have you across in no time.”

“You swear?” She asked, tugging on the boots with shaking hands.

“I swear it,” Fiyero promised.

She tried to gauge how it would work, form a mental picture of how she could possibly cross the water without a drop touching her skin.

It simply wasn’t possible.

Fiyero turned to face away from her, “Take my hands first. Steady yourself and stand on my shoulders. One at a time. It will be difficult but we can do this.”

“We can’t,” she argued, voice wavering.

“We have to.”

Knowing that she was right, Elphaba reached out for his hands, gripping them tightly. She could already feel herself slipping and she hadn’t even taken the first step. Elphaba held her breath as if the current were already pulling her under and stepped one foot out and then the other.

Fiyero winced against the pain incurred by the heel of his boots digging into his flesh, “Are you okay?”

“No,” she answered honestly, “but I’m holding on. And you’re not going to let me fall.”

“I’m not going to let you fall,” he promised, suddenly not so sure of himself. He began to ford the waterway slowly, each step a miniature plea to the Unnamed God, to Lurline, to Ozma or whatever deity had the power to help him keep his promised.

It seemed as if no deity was interested in hearing his pleas that day. Something beneath his feet seemed to rise and bind his ankle, a weed growing under the water. He stumbled then, crying out her name and trying to push her in the direction of the path just a few feet from them.

Elphaba cried out as she fell towards the water and closed her eyes, bracing for the searing pain that would certainly be her end. This was most certainly a fate more cruel than the Philosophy Club. The pain never came, though. Instead, she felt cold beneath her cheek and though the fall smarted, it was a far cry from what she expected.

Fiyero resurfaced from his misstep, the underwater hazard gone. He spun around wildly, “Elphaba!” he called out frantically, “Elphaba!”

“I’m here,” she answered in a trembling voice.

He stopped and turned in the direction of her voice and saw her sprawled across a thick sheet of ice, “How?”

Elphaba studied the ice beneath her and then her own hands.

“Never mind,” he said, “let’s just get out of here. Can you make it across from there?”

Without giving herself time to think, she plunged her hand forward to the narrowed waterway before her and ice formed where water had been before. She looked up at Fiyero in astonishment and then scrambled to her feet. The sooner she was off the water, the better, ice or not.

Fiyero pulled himself from the water and watched as the ice quickly dissipated in her absence. He was soaked but they were across and they were safe. Despite himself, he couldn’t resist asking, “Think you can manage a fire?”

He couldn’t be certain but he’d thought he’d seen her smile in response.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Heavy silence lingered between the two of them as they sat together in the shadows of the new section of Southstairs. There was a literal light at the end of the tunnel and neither one of them felt safe venturing out into it, given their appearances.

Elphaba studied the blue diamonds tracing up Fiyero’s arm, over his toned biceps and then over his shoulders. Her eyes traveled down over his covered back and for only a moment, she wondered if the diamonds traveled lower. They were beautiful, as was he.

“What do they mean?” She finally asked him, her voice timid.

Fiyero stopped, glancing around for the ‘they’ she was referring to, “What does what mean? Where?”

“The diamonds,” she clarified, “do they mean something?”

He glanced down at his hands, as if he had to momentarily examine them himself to understand her question, “They’re…tribal.”

Now was not the time to bring up bloodlines and he did not care to discuss it. There would be another time and a place for that. Or not, for all Fiyero cared. It was not a matter of importance, especially with such a daunting task that lay before them.

“So everybody in your land has them?”

“No, not everybody,” he answered softly. His eyes lingered on hers for only a moment before he felt heat rising in his cheeks and he looked away, “So have you always been able to do things like that? Magic, I mean.”

Elphaba kept her eyes trained on him, “Why else would they keep me locked away?” Her tone was even, slightly laced with bitterness, “besides the green. I suppose that would be reason enough.”

“Can you control it?”

“No more than I can the green.”

“Then I see no reason to lock you away for it,” he answered softly, “and it won’t happen again. I won’t let it. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that. Nobody can.”

Fiyero’s eyes rose to meet hers again, “I swear my life on it.”

xx

Boq paced back and forth outside the doors of the infirmary, “Do you think she’ll be okay? Do you think it was poison? It could have been poison. It could have been anything in _that_ place.”

Avaric watched, amused by the Munchkin’s onslaught of panic, “Do you realize that if you were in there and she were out here, well…she wouldn’t be out here. Lady Galinda cares no more for you than she cares for an insect. She may actually care for an insect more.”

Shen Shen lifted her head from Avaraic’s shoulder to nod in agreement before resting it once more. Boq looked at the two of them warily. He wasn’t sure when they had become a pair, but there were none better suited in arrogance for each other.

An old woman emerged from the room, leaning heavily on a knobby cane, “What are you fools doing loitering here? This is an infirmary, not an exhibit.”

“But-“ Boq began.

“Go.” The woman spoke with finality, watching with glassy eyes as the companions of the fair Lady Galinda slowly wandered towards the door. They disappeared from sight and Yackle turned back to the doors of the infirmary but did not enter.

Precisely ten minutes after her companions left, Galinda emerged, a large leather-bound book in her arms. “I still don’t understand.”

“All will be made clear soon enough, m’dear. Now be a good girl and take that book back to Shiz like I told you. I want you to rest in your room for three day’s time. And then after that-“

“I _remember_ ,” Galinda interrupted, “I will take it to the Shiz gate. The owner will be waiting for it there.”

Yackle smiled, a glimmer in her colorless eye, “That’s right dearie. Now, be on your way. You have much to do and you need your rest.”

xx

“You’re cold,” Fiyero said, his own jaw clenched as if it would somehow guard against the chill that overcome the passageways, “take my shirt.”

“I’m not cold.”

“Your chattering teeth say otherwise,” he answered, still extending the shirt.

“And what about you? You’ve got gooseflesh. You’re just as cold as I am,” Elphaba countered, refusing to take the shirt, “we’ll both freeze.”

“I’m fine. I’m used to Winkie winters. Of course, if you could make up that fire, neither one of us would have a problem.”

“I told you that I-“

“It was a joke,” he interrupted, “please, take the shirt.”

Elphaba studied the shirt in his hands, moved her eyes up to his as if thinking for a moment, “Keep your shirt,” she finally spoke softly. Every bone in her body seemed reluctant as she moved to his side but she did it anyway, trying to forget that nothing good had ever come from being so close to another. Her movements were stiff and she pressed her body against his, long tendrils of ebony hair falling over her face.

 

Fiyero tried to move as little as possible, terrified of causing her alarm. Carefully, he slipped his shirt back on and then gingerly placed his arm around her. He felt her stiffen, “I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”

His words seemed to relax her and he sighed in relief. He rested his head against the wall behind them, eyes cast sideways at the end of the tunnel where the light began to fade. If it was this cold now, the elements would only turn further against them.

“Fiyero?” Elphaba’s voice was overwrought with exhaustion.

“Yes?”

“What happens when we make it out of here? Where will we go?”

Though he wasn’t sure of location, there was one thing he was absolutely sure of, “Somewhere far away from here. Where you’ll be safe.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“At least until I know your safe. Longer, if that’s what you want,” he answered cautiously, “I”ll stay with you for as long as you want.”

For a moment she remained quiet, as if contemplating his words but then nodded against his arm, letting the gesture speak for itself. Elphaba’s eyes began to drift closed, her body relaxing, curling more into him. The cold began to fade and sleep began to take over.

Fiyero listened to her breathing, deep and even and felt a small degree of relief. Though it was only a small victory in the much larger picture, it seemed as though he had finally won over her trust. He closed his eyes and tried to plan where they would go, on what their next move would be.

Whatever it was, he prayed it would not be their last.  

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Elphaba held her breath, the shadows of the tunnel eclipsing her body. Through the darkness, she could make out the figure- a male, but would not speak until she knew it was Fiyero for sure. The man stopped, looked around cautiously, advanced a few steps and then his search seemed more frantic.

“Elphaba,” he hissed through the darkness.

His name was a sigh of relief from her lips, “Fiyero. Over here.”

When she stepped forward, Fiyero couldn’t help but admire the way the shadows highlighted her features. The sharp angle of her cheekbones, the long limbs, her tresses no matter how tangled. She was beautiful and he would never understand how somebody could see her as anything but. 

It was a question he’d have to ponder later. For now, he had to find a way to get her through a rather rough and tumble populous. 

“Take these,” he offered, holding out a cloak and pair of gloves, “There are people ahead. We’re going to have to cover as much as we can. Try to blend in. We stick to the outsides, keep moving north.”

“How do you know?” She was still doubtful of his plan, and even more doubtful that they’d make it out of the place alive. 

“I paid for the information,” Fiyero answered, reaching out to pull the hood of the cloak over her hair, “Just, look down and hold onto me. We’re going to try to get through here as quickly as possible. I don’t know what the odds are that somebody here would recognize you, but I don’t want to take my chances finding out.”

“What happens if someone stops us?”

“We’ll deal with it when we have to. Right now, we just have to get moving. Keep your eyes down. It’s bright out there.”

Elphaba nodded, took Fiyero’s hand when he offered it and couldn’t help but feel like a lamb being led to slaughter.

xx

Keeping her eyes fixed upon the ground was more difficult than she could have imagined. The cold and darkened passageways that she’d become accustomed to gave way to a large bizzare, filled with people selling secondhand items. 

Occasionally, she would glance upward and take in the environment around her. The population was hardly what she’d call diverse. There were humans, filthy and disgruntled. Many of them appeared as if they were up to no good, the type of men that would take advantage of her captivity at the Philosophy Club. 

For a fleeting moment, she thought she recognized one and it made her stomach churn.

Her eyes darted around to some of the other humans, standing on the outskirts, emaciated with dark and sullen eyes. They didn’t fit in, looking as if they’d been cast into the abyss by mistake. She felt much like them, alone and left to die.

Overwhelmingly, though, there were Animals. Some looked like their human counterparts, as if they may strike out in a murderous rage at any moment. Most seemed docile though, living as though they’d chosen their surroundings. She did not know a lot of Southstairs, but she knew enough to know that nobody chose to live in the Southstairs.

It was a life sentence.

“What are you looking at?” The voice was unfamiliar and threatening.

Elphaba felt Fiyero’s grip tighten on her hand and she closed her eyes. This was it. This would be their end. They’d barely made it into the bizarre and already they were caught.

“I apologize but I am not looking at anything,” Fiyero’s voice was unwavering, “I am simply passing through.”

“I don’t like your tone,” the voice replied. Clearly he was looking for a fight, “Where are you from anyway, pretty boy. And what is this you’ve got tagging along.”

Fiyero grasped the man’s hand before he could pull the hood away from Elphaba’s cloak, “You do not want to do that.”

Elphaba stumbled backwards when Fiyero’s hand was lurched from hers and without thinking, she looked up, searching frantically for where he had gone. A crowd was beginning to surround them in the wake of the forming scuffle, the passerby intrigued by the activity.

“Fiyero!” She called out frantically, holding tightly to her hood, “Fiyero, where are you?”

“Oh, you’ve got a girlie with you, huh?” The man sneered and turned in the direction of the cloaked woman. He reached out and grabbed hold of Elphaba, ripping away her hood, “Let’s see what we’ve-“ The man paused and grinned, “Oh, you’ve got a pretty price on your head. You’ll get me out of Southstairs for good.”

Fiyero moved to lash out against the man, but found himself in a stronghold, “Let her go. She’s done nothing to you. To anybody.”

“Don’t care. I’ve been itching to get back out into the real world.”

Elphaba struggled against the man’s hold but to no avail. She barely had the strength to get through the tunnels, let alone to fight against a man three times her size. She looked at Fiyero, her wide brown eyes panic stricken.

“The ice,” he said to her, still struggling against the thugs holding him, “you have to try. Think about it. Focus on that. Do something,” he urged her. He knew that she didn’t know how to control it but maybe the emotions mixed with urgency made it come about.

She looked helplessly at Fiyero, her resolve fading, “I can’t. I can’t do it!”

“Try!” He yelled at her before rearing his head back into the face of one of his captors. This would not be the way they ended.

“Try, try, try,” the man mocked, “keep trying. I like it. I may have to have a bite of that spirit before I take you back to your owners.”

Again, she struggled against the man, terrified of going back to the Philosophy Club, terrified of going back to a life of being sold for sex, of men putting their hands and lips on her flesh. She would not be beaten, be splattered with water and have her flesh burned for simply casting her eyes upwards. Not again. 

Elphaba looked at Fiyero again, now in a strangle hold, the color fading from his face as he struggled still. They were going to kill him right in front of her. He would die because of her. 

The fear inside her turned to anger, burning, boiling through her blood and her muscles tensed.

The man who was laughing at her struggles only moments ago stood frozen behind her, his grip weakened against her arms and then he dropped to the ground behind her. She did not turn to look at him, but only looked at the men holding Fiyero.

Each word was enunciated as a threat though they were truly a plea, “Let. Him. Go.”

Without argument, the men released their grasp on Fiyero, and he fell to the ground in front of her, gasping for breath. She dropped to her knees at his side, brushing his hair from his face, “Fiyero…Fiyero, are you okay?” 

As best he could, he shook his head. Fiyero fought to catch his breath, his chest searing from the prolonged lack of oxygen. He felt her hand on his back, her murmured apologies and he found the strength to push himself up, “It’s okay. I’m okay,” he spoke, his voice hoarse.

Elphaba rose to her feet, cast her eyes to the man on the ground before looking at the crowd around them. It was an empty threat at best, she didn’t know what she’d done to the man, let alone know if she could do it again, “We will have safe passage through Southstairs.”

The crowd parted wordlessly until save for one Antelope dressed in tattered robes, “I will see to your safe passage.”

With Fiyero’s arm draped around her shoulder to support him, Elphaba stepped forward, towards the Animal and towards the unknown a little less afraid of the future than she had been before.


	7. Chapter 7

Southstairs was as much community as it was a prison. 

Shacks and houses of a grander nature lined streets, some with residents standing outside chatting as if they weren’t in an underground prison. The smell of meals overrode the stench of the streets from time to time, a nauseating contrast. 

There were the less desirable parts too, the parts where only the worst seemed to reside, where there were truly jails. Despite their dangerous surroundings though, none seemed interested in harming their guide. They followed her into yet another neighborhood, this one predominately Animal. 

“We will rest here for the evening,” she turned to inform them.

“No, we must leave tonight,” Elphaba challenged her.

“I cannot guarantee your safe passage in the night. There are those who would gladly kill me so they could claim the price on your head, Elphaba Third Thropp Descending. There are even more who would kill you for a higher price so that the truth is not uncovered,” the Antelope opened a door into a small home, “Please, come in. I will explain everything.”

Fiyero couldn’t explain it but he trusted the Animal, “It’s okay,” he whispered to Elphaba, urging her towards the door, “we need to rest.” He squeezed her hand gently in reassurance and she nodded slightly before following him into the house. 

The house was as welcoming as any home could be in Southstairs, at the very least warm. The Antelope set about placing a kettle over the fire, “I’m certain that you’re hungry.” 

Elphaba looked around the dwelling, studying the shadows dancing about the walls from the fire. It reminded her too much of the Philosophy Club, the shadows that would skulk away from the walls in the middle of the night to torture her. She wondered if she’d ever truly feel at ease anywhere, even if safety was guaranteed.

She kept close to Fiyero as her eyes fell away from the shadows. She could not look at the Antelope as she addressed her, “You called me Elphaba Third Thropp Descending. What does that mean?”

Their guide stopped what she was doing and turned to Elphaba, “It’s who you are. There are many who worked to see that this day would never come and many who gave up on it coming.”

“What day?” She asked, frustrated with the Animal’s riddles, “Who are you?”

A semblance of what could be considered a smile crossed the Antelope’s lips, “My name is Essie. Before the Animal Acts were passed down, I was a midwife. The midwife who delivered you, actually, and what a surprise you were.”

Fiyero looked surprised, “Delivered her. Does that mean you knew her parents?” He looked at Elphaba, though reluctant to the idea, maybe getting her home to her family would be the best way to safety.”

“I know them. Or what remains. I’m afraid her mother Melena passed. But her father, Frexspar the Godly still lives. As does her sister and brother. Her sister is currently the Eminent Thropp, though the title should be yours, Elphaba as you are the eldest.”

Elphaba shook her head, “I don’t understand what you’re saying. How could I possibly have a family? The only thing I’ve ever known is…”

Essie settled next to her, “I’m sorry to say, young lady, but you do have a family. ‘Twas your father that sent you there, so convinced that your skin was an abomination and he being the right hand of the Unnamed God, well, he couldn’t lay claim to you. So Munchkinland mourned the death of an infant child born to Frexspar the Godly and his beautiful wife Melena Thropp while I was forced to cart you to the man who swore that he would keep your existence a secret. And what a handsome fee he was paid to do so.”

“My family sold me,” she repeated quietly. There was no emotion mixed with the words, how could she have emotion regarding something she never experienced? She didn’t know what it meant to have a family, to lose a family. 

“What will happen if they discover that she’s freed?” Fiyero asked in spite of himself.

“Well, there are those who have been charged with making sure that her existence is never known and would go to great lengths to conceal that existence. There are those who want her back in the Philosophy Club and are offering a large sum for that return. It is you, young man, that make sure that neither party get her. Elphaba has a great fate upon her and it is your fate as well. You have to protect her.”

“I did a fine job of that today,” he said sourly, his thoughts traveling back to the bazaar. 

“But you did,” Essie interjected, “you’re here. You’re safe. You’ll get out of the Southstairs alive.”

“I didn’t-“

“You did,” Elphaba answered, “I…whatever I did. I couldn’t have done it without you. I did it for you.”

Essie nodded gently at Elphaba’s words and left the two alone to continue about preparing a meal for the travelers. She glanced back at Elphaba, who still only knew half the story. She couldn’t have imagined the horrors that faced that child the night she carted her away in the middle of the night. Had she been able to, she would have never done it. 

Fiyero waited until he assumed Essie was out of earshot, “You did that for me? You know how to do it?”

“No,” Elphaba shook her head, “they were hurting you. They were going to kill you. I didn’t want them to and it just happened. It always just happens.”

“But twice when you’ve needed it to,” he mumbled, almost to himself, “there has to be more to it.”

“I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t want to need it.”

He took her hand in his, “You won’t. We’ll get out of this place soon and then we’ll keep moving.”

“But she said that I have a great fate-“

“You do, child. You are to become the Governor of Munchkinland. You must set things right.”

“How would making her Governor keep her safe from those that seek to harm her?” Fiyero asked incredulously, “We may as well send up a smoke signal so they know exactly where to find her.”

“I did not speak of timing. That is not my place. I only know what she must do. Things will happen with time. Change does not come overnight.” Essie pushed two bowls in their direction, “but for now we musn’t dwell on these things. Now you need to eat and rest. Regain your strength. It’s a long trip to the Vinkus and your journey will start early tomorrow. It’s not much farther to the gates of Shiz.”

“What will happens when we get there?” Fiyero asked, “Without a doubt they’ll be looking for her in Shiz.”

Elphaba tried to keep a placid exterior but all the talk of people hunting for her did little to make her feel at ease. She kept her eyes trained on the table, fingertips curled into her knees, “Do we have to go to Shiz?”

“It’s the only way out,” Essie confirmed, “but your safety is guaranteed on your arrival. A girl will be there with something that belongs to you, a book. It will help you on your journey.”

“A book is going to help us?” Fiyero asked.

“When in the right hands, a book can do many things,” Essie answered calmly, “you have no reason to distrust me. For all my trust is placed in her. Many of my kind are here in the Southstairs, sentenced to life simply for being. Above all others, we understand Elphaba’s plight and she ours. We will see to her safety as much as we can.”

Fiyero’s hand slipped over Elphaba’s in quiet reassurance. They had to trust Essie, trust that this book would keep Elphaba safe.

There were no other options.


	8. Chapter 8

Everything about him exuded warmth. The color of his skin, his voice, the way his ice blue eyes made her feel hot inside, like a fever, every time he looked at her, his body wrapped around hers on the tiny cot in the corner. 

She knew she should have been sleeping but the only thing she could do was think about danger that lay before them. Over and over again, he’d promised that he’d protect her but how could he? His life had nearly been lost that day and because of her. 

Then there was Essie, the Antelope who claimed to have delivered her not only into existence but into the life of pain that she had known. And now she was to deliver her into salvation by means of a book.

None of it made sense.

Carefully, Elphaba tried to pull herself from Fiyero’s grasp without waking him. 

“Where are you going?” 

Clearly she hadn’t been the only one not sleeping.

“Are you my keeper now?” The answer wasn’t fair but she didn’t know how to explain herself. She was so frustrated with the constant push and pull of whether or not they would live through this, what was going to happen, where they would go. 

It all seemed so impossible.

“I’m not your keeper,” he echoed, “but I am your friend.”

Elphaba looked over her shoulder at him, “Do friends risk their lives for each other?”

“Where I come from, yes,” he confirmed.

“And do you also make friends with people that you do not know in the land you come from?”

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly at her skepticism. It made her all the more beautiful to him. Fiyero moved so that he was sitting at her side, “There isn’t much that I understand about this situation. I’m just as unsure as you are. There is one thing I am sure of and that’s that this is not a mistake. Doing this for you, with you, could never be a mistake.”

The warm feeling that he always caused to course through her body returned and she swallowed hard, studying him by the light of the fire. With slender emerald fingers, she reached out to brush his hair from his face, to trace one of the blue diamonds adorning his skin, “You do not seem real and yet you are.”

Fiyero took her hand in his, “I will protect you, Elphaba. I swear it.” He kissed the back of her hand gently before raising his eyes to meet hers once more. 

Essie looked on from the shadows, watching the firelight dance upon the destined pair. Seeing how the Arjiki prince cared for the girl, it somehow eased the pain of knowing what she had done so many years ago. 

Elphaba would have her retribution.

xx

Galinda stood at Shiz Gates, eyes transfixed on the heavy book in her arms. The owner was coming, the old woman said. She was a prisoner in her own body, her mind screaming that something was not right but her body standing fixed in its position at the edge of the yellow brick road. 

The book in her arms seemed to be much more than a book but she couldn’t so much as pry it open. Clearly the thing was partial to its owner. 

Before her, a shuddering groan indicated the opening of the gates and the first thing she saw was an enormous Antelope with two smaller figures behind her. She immediately closed her eyes, fearing for her life. What had she been delivered to with this horrible book, what fate had she been paid to when-

“Lady Galinda?” 

She opened one eye to see Fiyero standing before her with an incredulous smile plastered upon his face, “Fiyero? Fiyero, Thank Oz! Nobody believed me when I spoke your name, they said I was making you up. Things haven’t been the same since we-“ her voice trailed off when her eyes fell upon his traveling companion.

Before she could speak, the book in her arms suddenly began to warm and quake, burning the palms of her hands until she dropped it upon the ground. The cover flipped open and the pages began to whir wildly until the book lay spread open, its secrets apparently spilling for Fiyero.

“You’re the book’s owner?” Galinda asked, temporarily forgetting his abnormally colored companion. 

The accompanying antelope spoke, “He is not,” with as much grace as she could, she nudged Elphaba in the direction of the book, “The Grimmerie appears to be speaking to you, my dear.”

Elphaba stood back from the book, “I do not know how to read.”

Essie nudged her forward gently, “Try.”

Reluctantly, Elphaba fell before the book. The words seemed to dance around the page, making even less sense to her than a normal book would. Her hand hovered against the page and she could feel heat radiating from the book, spreading through her. Not the kind of warmth that she felt with Fiyero, the other kind. 

The kind that usually ended up in people getting hurt.

Her fingertip brushed against one of the dancing words at the same moment that it fell from her lips and the words on the page stopped moving, the message become clear. Though she’d never read a day in her life, the words came easily now in a soft and rhythmic chant until a purple glow enveloped her. 

“What’s happening to her?” Fiyero called to Essie, his hand shielding his eyes. Whatever it was, it was unsettling and he worried for her safety, “Elphaba, stop! We don’t know what that book-“

“It’s okay, child. This is fate. The book will protect her. It must protect her.”

Just as suddenly as the commotion began, it was over. Elphaba sat, hunched over the book, eyes frozen on her hand. As many times as she had wondered what it would be like, she was both simultaneously horrified and relieved all at the same time. She felt familiar hands upon her shoulder and she looked up with widened brown eyes, a stark contrast to her pale skin, the color of porcelain.

Fiyero knelt at her side, grasping her hand in his, “Is this…this isn’t permanent. It can’t be,” he stammered, “This will fade?”

Essie looked at Elphaba who looked both bewildered and exhilarated all at the same time, “You shall have safe passage to Kiamo Ko castle. Lady Galinda has privilege and will be able to provide you with a safe transport.”

“I will?” Galinda asked, confused by what she was seeing.

“You will,” The Antelope confirmed to the rosy blond, “you must help them. So much relies upon it.”

Galinda looked at the pair on the ground, studying him so closely. Ten minutes ago, he was supposedly a figment of her imagination and now she was watching magic books and a green girl turning colors as if changing her clothes. 

It was dizzying.

Fiyero helped Elphaba to her feet and then lifted the book into his arms, “Come. Kiamo Ko is a long journey and we don’t know how long this will last.”

Elphaba began to follow him but then turned to thank Essie for her assistance but she was gone. She looked down at her hands again. Surely it was some sort of a dream. Though Fiyero had been insistent that the dream would not last, she wasn’t certain that she wanted it to end.


	9. Chapter 9

Elphaba had rarely seen her reflection in the basement of the Philosophy Club but when she did, she never felt anything more than repulsed. Her green skin, her sin, the life sentence she would never be able to escape. Now as she rode in a carriage alongside Fiyero and his female companion, she couldn’t help but stare at her reflection in the window. 

Pink lips, rosy cheeks, fair and flawless skin. 

It was so surreal.

Fiyero watched Elphaba studying her reflection and glanced at the book at her side. It was a cruel gift, one that she’d become accustomed to only for it to be taken away. It was even crueler that she would never be able to realize how beautiful her true form was when she’d be granted this one for a short time. 

Galinda elbowed Fiyero in the side, “You’re so obvious. It’s dreadful.”

“Obvious?” He asked, rubbing his side.

Galinda glanced in the direction of Elphaba and then back at him, “Obvious.”

He shook his head, knowing that he’d never be able to explain to Galinda exactly what was going on. He wasn’t sure himself but he knew that it far exceeded the depths of her thoughts. He didn’t think her stupid by any means but he knew that the reach of superficiality in her mind was great.

“I still don’t understand how you found the book and how you came to be at the gates,” Fiyero stated, shifting the topic away from Elphaba.

Now it was Galinda’s turn to be unsettled.

“I told you, I don’t remember. If I’d had control over myself, I wouldn’t have been there. Maybe I was magicked into it.”

“But by whom?” Fiyero asked, “It feels as if we are but puppets in a grand play.”

“No matter what the circumstance, we are all but puppets in a grand play,” Elphaba finally spoke, turning to look at the two of them, “every one of us. You think that whatever control we exert in our actions truly alter our fate?”

Galinda glanced at Fiyero and then back at Elphaba, “I think that we choose our own path in life. Nobody will make me do something I can’t do.”

“And yet you stood at the gates with this book. I beg to differ.”

Heat rose to Galinda’s cheeks and she crossed her arms, “Well, the book certainly did you an ounce of good. There’s no reason to be cross.”

“The only path that matters right now,” Fiyero interjected, sensing the potential for a harsh disagreement between the two girls, “is the one to Kiamo Ko. We need to make it through as quickly and as inconspicuously as possible.”

“You’re not going to make it anywhere with her looking like that,” Galinda huffed.

Elphaba glanced at her hands, wondering if the book’s magic had already faded, “I’m sorry but I fail to see how I can possibly stick out in a crowd with flesh of a normal color.”

“You’re a filthy mess traveling with an Arjiki Prince. It’s obvious,” Galinda said pointedly.

“Arjiki Prince?” Elphaba questioned with a furrowed brow, searching Fiyero’s expression for an answer.

“It’s not of importance,” he said, “and she’s right. You’re hardly dressed against the elements and we’ll both stick out after what we’ve been through. Galinda, you can help her?”

Galinda cast a sideways glance at the girl. She was pretty enough but her attitude left little to be desired, “Consider it a favor.”

“Then we’ll stop just briefly in Shiz and take some time to prepare for the journey,” Fiyero looked at Elphaba who seemed to be appalled at the idea of being left alone with Galinda, “she is a dear friend and she is better suited than I am to help you.”

“It doesn’t seem as if I have a choice,” she spoke, knowing her answer would only further serve to irritate the blond. 

It was almost amusing to make her cheeks turn even redder with emotion.

xx

Galinda looked on expectantly as Elphaba stood a fair distance away from the steaming tub of water, “Well, what are you waiting for? I drew a bath for you as if I’m some sort of lowly hand maiden and now you’re just going to stare at it?”

“It’s water.”

“You certainly can’t clean yourself with mud.”

Unwilling to answer to the girl, Elphaba turned to look at her, “What? Are you going to watch me bathe?”

Never in her life had Galinda met somebody so unpleasant as the girl before her. She stepped outside the door with a huff, wondering exactly what Fiyero was doing in the company of such a vile woman. 

Hopefully she’d have an opportunity to drill him about his companion later.

Elphaba waited until she heard the door click before advancing slowly towards the bath. She was terrified of water but maybe- she reached out with only a fingertip to touch the surface of the water, holding her breath as she did. 

There was heat, warmth traveling over her fingertip but not the searing pain that she had associated with water before. She submerged her hand, moving it through the water, amused by the sensation of how it felt between her fingers. Satisfied that nothing was as she expected it would be, she stepped into the tub and sank into the water. 

Almost immediately, the tension in her body was released and she wondered how anybody could possibly function if this was a part of their daily routine. She could spend the rest of her life here, content. A small basket hung from the frame of the tub, bottles inside it. She looked over the bottles but couldn’t understand the words on them. Before she had an opportunity to dump them into the water, the door opened up and Galinda’s shrill voice interrupted her mere moments of placidity.

“No!” Galinda cried, jumping forward to grab the bottle from her hands, “Have you never bathed before??”

“No,” Elphaba answered but offered no further explanation. 

With an exaggerated sigh, Galinda took hold of a sponge and plucked a bottle from the basket, “It’s no wonder you’re so filthy then.” She emptied some of the contents onto the sponge before dipping it into the water and then dragging it along Elphaba’s back, who immediately tensed, “Come now,” she spoke, “it’s not like I’m going to drown you. Unless you speak a word of this to anybody else, then I may consider it.”

There was no response from Elphaba so Galinda continued, “Honestly, I’m not sure where you’ve been that you’ve never bathed or how Fiyero ended up in that palace, but he does have a fondness for you.”

“He’s my friend,” Elphaba answered quietly, taking the sponge when Galinda offered it and running it along her arms just as Galinda had done to her back. 

“For somebody who seems to live under a rock, you certainly know how to deliver the party line.”

Elphaba looked at her, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a common excuse,” Galinda sighed again. How could one be so tedious? “There’s certainly more than friendship between the two of you.”

“He said he was my friend. What more is there?” Now maybe she was playing naïve, she knew what more there could be but discussing it hardly interested her.

“Honestly,” Galinda groaned, “hold still. We have to do something about this hair of yours.”

She wasn’t exactly sure what Galinda was doing to her hair but it felt as if she was trying to rip it from her head. Elphaba tried to keep herself still and focus her mind on other things as she had always done when something caused her pain, “He’s a prince?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“The diamonds didn’t give it away?” 

“In my experience, a different appearance isn’t typically a positive thing.”

Now Galinda was getting into a topic she was interested in, “So…green?”

“Typically.”

“How’d that happen?”

“Well, if Animals are to be believed, I was born that way,” Elphaba answered, “and it wasn’t expected.”

“Nobody expects that their child would be born different. How horrifying.”

Elphaba looked up at Galinda, “I expect that’s probably the same thing my parents thought. They got rid of me.”

Galinda felt sheepish, “Well, it would have been an initial reaction. It doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have loved you.” She stood up and offered the girl a robe, “Parents should always love their children.”

“There’s a big difference between what people should do and what they actually do.”

Watching Elphaba pull the robe on, Galinda couldn’t help but admire what just bathing had done for the girl’s appearance. She was lithe and tall and once she was dressed and her hair done up, she’d certainly be a head turner. Though she’d still stand out in a crowd, it would be for her beauty.

What a difference a little bit of magic can make. 

“Come,” Galinda said, offering her hand, “Fiyero is going to worry himself sick if we don’t hurry up. It’s quite a tizzy that you’ve worked him into.”

Tiring of the errant remarks, Elphaba took the robe and responded, “Then we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“That’s really all that you’re going to say?” Galinda asked, already buried in her closet to find clothes for the girl. The prospect of seeing what kind of beauty she could turn her into was quite exciting, “You could at least entertain me. Tell me if you reciprocate his feelings.”

“How should I know if I do? I am fond of him but he is the only friend I have ever known and yet, I barely know him.”

Galinda held up a dress, comparing it to the girl before tossing it onto her bed, “Then you’ve said it all.”

“But I haven’t said anything,” Elphaba protested, “do I really need all of these?”

“Those frocks will not do. I’m still looking.”

Elphaba couldn’t help but notice how frivolous the other girl was and wondered if all girls were this way. There was an ache in her chest when she came to the realization that she’d be leaving all of this before she ever had a chance to learn it all. She’d been hidden away from the world for her entire life and now she was preparing on a journey to hide away from the world in a different way. 

It was a journey that she wasn’t certain that she’d want to make but then again, what choice did she have?


	10. Chapter 10

“The book is with the girl?”

Yackle’s eyes remain cast at the ground, “The book is with the girl, and the girl is with her prince.”

“And the witch of the North?”

“Returned to Shiz as if nothing has ever happened,” Yackle confirmed, “the girl will be traveling to the Vinkus soon. What of the Prince’s betrothed?”

“It is not in your place to ask questions, old woman. Nonetheless, she has been dealt with. Not that I expected it would be an issue.”

Previous experience kept Yackle’s eyes trained on the floor. Though she had many questions, she did not ask them of The Wizard. The future had been set in motion and her questions would most certainly be answered sooner rather than later. 

The Wicked Witch of the West would soon rise.

xx

The stark contrast between her emerald eyes and raven hair is the first thing he noticed. Her pale skin was accented by the slightest blush of the cheek when their eyes met and she looked away. Her beauty in common form was undeniable, but Fiyero found himself longing for her to return to the true form.

The form that drew him so deeply into her world that he became willing to risk everything for her.

“I apologize for our tardiness. It seems like people are quite enchanted with Miss Elphaba,” Galinda announced in an exaggerated tone and then lowered her voice, “why men would be interested in something so plain is beyond me.”

“Plain isn’t a bad thing for some of us,” Elphaba spoke up, glancing around her.

“We also don’t know how long plain will last,” Fiyero answered, moving to Elphaba’s side, “we need to leave this city as soon as possible. Your absence has not gone unnoticed. I overheard a dwarf discussing the disappearance at the Philosophy club.”

Just the mention of the club caused Elphaba’s stomach to return. Despite her so-called plain experience, Elphaba suddenly felt very visible in the city surrounding her. 

Sensing her distress, Fiyero reached out to take hold of her hand, squeezed it gently to draw her back to him, “We will travel as a pair. If anybody asks, your name is Sarima and you are my betrothed.”

“Your betrothed?”

“I will explain once we are on our way,” he assured her, “Galinda, you remember what you are to tell anybody should they question my absence?”

“You have returned to the Vinkus to marry Sarima. You will return in the fall to complete your studies,” she recited as if lines from a play, “Oh Fiyero! It’s dreadful that you’re going. I’ll have to manage that tedious Boq and the cunning Avaric on my own.”

“You’ll have Miss Shenshen and Miss Pfannee,” he reminded her, breaking away from Elphaba for only a moment to embrace his friend.

“They’re worthless as defenses against Boq. You know that,” she sighed dramatically, “so I will see you in the autumn, right?”

Fiyero glanced at Elphaba. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever be able to return to Shiz. He gave her a curt nod, almost certain that he would never see Miss Galinda again, “Be safe. Send word if there’s any trouble and I will do the same for you.”

“But will you do the same for me?” Avaric grinned, dropping in on the end of the conversation. He slapped Fiyero on the back, “Where have you been? It’s as if you dropped off the face of the planet.” 

Fiyero tried not to grimace as he addressed his friend, “I had to attend to some personal matters before I return to the Vinkus.”

Avaric nodded, his eyes fixed on Elphaba, “And who is this fair lady,” he asked, reaching to take her hand to kiss it, “And why haven’t you introduced us yet?” 

Before Elphaba could pull her hand away in disgust, Fiyero reached out to take it, “Avaric, this I Sarima. Sarima, Avaric Tenmeadows.”

“This is Sarima?” Avaric asked, glancing at Galinda. He was certain that Fiyero had never spoken of his betrothed as someone of such breathtaking beauty. It was only after he took in Galinda for a second time that he could see the bewilderment in her expression, “What?”

“You know Fiyero?” Galinda asked in confusion. It was only days ago that he acted as if he’d never heard of him.

“Of course I know Fiyero. I knew him before you,” he answered, “have you gone mad?”

Galinda shook her head, blond curls bobbing gently, “I think I’m coming down with something. I must go. Fiyero, take care of yourself and please do return quickly.”

Before she left, Galinda paused at Elphaba’s side, “I know that I said it but if there’s one thing you are not, it’s plain. Plain could never be a good thing, even in your case. Will you return one day? With Fiyero perhaps?”

Elphaba studied the bubbly blond for a moment, “If it is meant to be, I suppose that we will again meet one day.”

“Then I will hope that fate allows it,” Galinda answered softly, laying her hand aside the other girl’s cheek before walking away. 

Avaric watched in awe, “It seems that Miss Galinda has taken a liking to Miss Sarima. I didn’t think it was possible that the girl could like anybody besides herself.”

“There’s more than she lets on,” Elphaba observed aloud, “the exterior seems shallow and self-absorbed but there’s something about that girl that’s much deeper and involved than she would care to admit or show.”

“Clearly you’ve only spent a few fleeting moments with Miss Galinda,” Avaric remarked.

“It was all the time I needed to spend with her to see that she’s hiding her true self,” she countered and looked to Fiyero, “Shall we? Our journey home will be long.”

The way Elphaba referred to their destination as home sent chills down Fiyero’s spine, that feeling of predestination washing over him. He put his arm around her, drawing her close and he could feel how tense she was in Avaric’s presence, “Sarima is right, we must be going. I will return in the autumn to conclude my studies but I will keep in touch.”

Avaric eyed Elphaba for a moment, as if he recognized her and then moved his gaze to Fiyero, “Of course. As will I.” He backed away slowly, studying them before turning away and heading in the direction that Lady Galinda had. 

Fiyero could feel Elphaba relax slightly and he looked to her in question, “Is everything okay?”

Elphaba only responded with a slight nod. Despite her best attempts at putting her life at the Philosophy Club out of her mind, seeing one of the vile men who took advantage of her so many times brought it back. At first, she had thought that she would want to stay in the city and explore a life she had never been a part of but seeing Avaric, putting a name to one of the many faces she had seen in that basement, she lost all desire to explore what the world really was.

She simply wanted to forget it.

“Take me home, Fiyero.”


	11. Chapter 11

Elphaba had been silent since their departure from Shiz, eyes trained on the passing terrain. Though she said nothing, Fiyero could see that she’d been upset somehow, the way she carried herself, the glint of anger in her eyes. Her posture was rigid, hands clutched tightly in her lap. 

Their wagon was empty save for them; a handsome price paid to travel safely and be permitted to say almost anything they like without prying ears. 

“Elphaba,” he spoke softly, searched her expression for change.

She did not respond but her fists grew tighter in her lap.

So he was the cause of her discord. Fiyero made the bold move to sit at her side and he reached out to pull her hands from her lap but she resisted, “You’re angry at me?”

Again, she did not answer but she pulled her hands away from him and glared at him pointedly. He did things to her, made her feel things that she’d never felt and all for what? What kind of pawn had he made of her exactly? She couldn’t have stayed in Shiz with people like Avaric lurking about, she couldn’t have traveled on her own. And now, now she was traveling to the Vinkus to-

“Elphaba, answer me,” he murmured reaching out to grasp her hands once more, “If I’ve angered you, I want to know what I’ve done.”

The pleading tone of his voice chipped away at her resolve and she finally opened her mouth to speak, eyes still fixed toward the window, “You’re betrothed.”

A slight smile turned up the corner of his lip. It shouldn’t have been amusing that something so miniscule bothered her so much, but it was. Perhaps because he took it to mean that she felt the same way that he had felt about her, “It’s nothing.”

Elphaba jerked her hands from his and looked to him with angry green eyes, “I may not have been exposed to much in my life, but I know what it means to be betrothed. You don’t think that men didn’t climb atop me with women waiting for them at home? That they didn’t touch me and…and…” her voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence even in all of her anger, “you weren’t like them. You weren’t supposed to be like them.”

Fiyero reached out for her, cupped her face in his hands, “Sarima means nothing to me.”

Though she tried, Elphaba failed at pulling away from him, “An excuse I heard many times. Along with many others.”

“I’ve met her once,” he tried to say, “Elphaba, she means nothing. It’s no more than Royal Tradition and one I shirk gladly for you, if I have you then I…I don’t know what this is supposed to be, what happens from here but I gave up everything in Shiz for you because an old woman told me that you were my fate. I would give up everything in the Vinkus for the same. Sarima means nothing. Right now, you are all the matters. You are everything.”

Her eyes softened at his words and she quit fighting him. Her hands moved up so that they were over his and she pulled them gently away from her face but left their fingers interlaced. She knew that she cared for him, otherwise she wouldn’t have ached in her chest when she learned of his betrothal.

Elphaba reached up to trace along the diamonds over his brow with her fingertip, “They’re beautiful,” she uttered, moving her fingertips along his rich ochre flesh, “you’re beautiful.”

“As are you,” he answered, his voice matching the softness of hers, “The magic is beautiful. But you, the real you, is breathtaking.”

She felt her cheeks warm and she tried to look away but he followed her gaze, his hand once again moving to caress her face until her eyes met his. Elphaba felt her breath quicken slightly at the look in his eyes and something overcame her but she couldn’t put a name to it. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. 

Fiyero shifted slightly, drawing his body closer to hers. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a culmination of his admiration from her, the exhilaration that simply being so close to her caused, and what could be, what fate could mean. His eyes lingered on hers for a moment more before he leaned forward to place his lips gently against hers. 

Elphaba’s hand tightened around the material of his shirt and she returned the kiss, tender and sweet, the complete opposite of anything she’d experienced in her lifetime. When his arm wrapped around her waist, she pressed her body into his, the warmth of his embrace comfortable and inviting. 

Their lips parted and Fiyero smiled faintly, searching her face for a reaction. Somehow, he had expected her to slap him, a reaction to causing her so much distress over Sarima without explaining earlier. She did not, though. She simply rested her head against his shoulder, fingers woven with his. He brushed his lips atop her forehead, murmured a soft apology out of guilt. 

They sat in silence like this for a few moments before she finally spoke again, her voice tired, “Fiyero?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to be called Sarima if we hide from somebody,” her tone was mute but matter-of-fact at the same time. 

He nodded against the top of her head, taking in her words. He would never understand how he’d grown to care for somebody so much in so few days. This woman, his fate if old women with magical books were to be believed. His fate. 

“What about Fae?” He asked softly.

Initially, she did not respond but it was almost as if he could hear her thoughts, hear her replaying the name in her head before she finally spoke, “I like Fae.”

“Then Fae it will be,” he concluded gently pulling her closer still. He felt her relax fully in his arms, body giving way to much needed sleep. He kissed the top of her head once more and wondered what the future held for the two of them and when he’d be able to truly hold his Fae and not the mirage in his arms. More importantly, what kind of magic would cause that mirage to fade?


	12. Chapter 12

Elphaba watched the world pass by from the warmth of Fiyero’s arms. Nobody had ever held her or touched her the way he did. Nobody could leave her struggling for breath with just a glance, and in a good way. A way that she never wanted to let go of. She ran the tips of her fingers along the diamonds at his shoulders and neck, tracing a never ending pattern that only she could see. 

There was so much to see in this world.

Fiyero had told her all about it as their journey continued. He spoke softly of Kellswater in her ear, the gray lake that not even the horses would drink from, just beyond that the purple titans known as the Great Kells, the dangerous- some would say impassible- mountain range that separated the Vinkus from the rest of Oz. He told tales of his father taking him hunting in that same impassable range, foraging for food to store up for the long hard winters that would batter Winkie Country. 

Everything he said had such passion to it, even memories long gone. It was clear to her that he valued life, his home and his family. It made the fact that he was willing to risk it all for her so much harder to believe. What debt would she owe him in return for all of this and how would she ever be able to repay such a debt.

The wagon lurched to a stop at a wide river sloping down from the Kells- the Vinkus river, Fiyero had said- the water was clear, melted from glaciers atop the mountains. Though the new form seemed to be free from the same lethal aversion to water that her previous form had, it still made her nervous, the idea of fording a river in their wagon. What if the wagon were to tip or if the spell were to quit working?

It would certainly be the end of her. Magic couldn’t happen twice as it did in the Southstairs.

As they forded the river, she clung tightly to Fiyero, never once verbalizing her fear to him. She didn’t need to- he seemed to understand already.

As their journey continued to the foot of the Great Kells, Elphaba found herself drawn to the book in her satchel. It was as if the book were calling to her, asking to be opened. Fiyero stopped her however, reasoning that they weren’t certain of the company they were in. In its stead, he produced a book from his own satchel and began to read to her. 

That is until she took the book from him and tried to make sense of the letters and words herself, “I don’t know how you can understand this. It seems impossible. There’s so much.”

Fiyero smiled faintly, “For somebody who cannot read, you are well spoken. I think that you’d be able to understand it easily.”

Elphaba glanced up at him, “Well spoken?”

He nodded slightly, “You speak with authority, you use the proper syntax. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you had gone to school just as I had. How did you come to that?”

For a moment she was silent and then she shrugged, “A lot of travelers. Visitors. I picked up meanings by how they used the words. Yackle, she taught me some things when I was young. But Mr. Boss, he punished her for it.”

What a horrible life, Fiyero thought to himself, to be raised like that. Yet, she was so intelligent and so perceptive of people and their intent, “I can teach you.”

“To what? Read?” She asked incredulously.

“Yes, to read. And anything else you want. Well, to an extent. I fear that the student will surpass the teacher quickly.”

Elphaba smiled and looked down at the book, “And you think you can really teach me how?”

Fiyero pulled the book from her hands but held it in front of her and began to explain the basics of reading to her. The book that had called to her so fervently only a few minutes before had been silenced by a new curiosity and hunger to learn. Fiyero was thankful to have silenced it, as well. There was no knowing what kind of danger that book could bring to them here, especially if it were to unmask her disguise before they were in safe territory. 

Maybe introducing her to real books would keep her mind off the book long enough to make it home.

xx

Galinda sat in the gardens just outside the gates of Shiz University, more inattentive to the world around her than usual. She simply could not get her mind off of the green girl hidden amongst them so plainly, the way that Fiyero had bonded to her so quickly. 

The way that she was brought against her will to deliver some mysterious book.

None of it seemed to make sense, though that wasn’t what bothered her. What hung heavily on her mind is why she seemed to care so much that it bothered her. Typically when she didn’t understand something, she declared it unworthy of her time and moved on.

This time, however, she simply couldn’t let go.

She didn’t like it. 

Avaric slid onto the bench next to her, a paper crumpled in his hand, “You’re thinking.”

“Is that an offense?” Galinda asked, looking up at the unwelcomed intrusion. She slid a couple of inches in the opposite direction of him, giving herself more space. Avaric was known for his unwelcome advances even if he had been attached to Shen Shen recently.

“Pretty girls don’t think,” he commented with a cocky grin.

“I most certainly do think. I think quite often,” she retorted. 

Avaric wasn’t convinced, “Can you tell me what you think of, Lady Galinda? Or is it a private matter.”

“It’s no business of yours, most certainly.”

Her refusal to speak of her shallow thoughts were of no matter to him, he had more important matters to discuss with her, “Do you remember the supposed Lady Sarima with Fiyero?”

Galinda felt her blood run cold at the very mention, “Of course I do. I’m not so much of an airhead that I cannot remember days past.”

“Do you truly believe that she was his betrothed?”

“Of course I do. Fiyero has no reason to lie to us,” she answered nervously. How could Avaric possibly know? He had no reason to think otherwise, no clue. There was nothing even slightly scandalicious about their interactions, unless something had occurred after she departed.

“I have reason to believe that he did,” Avaric said in a low voice, extending the rumpled paper to Galinda. 

The paper bore a likeness not to ‘Sarima’ but to Elphaba, the green girl that she had first seen before she was disguised by the magical book. It was calling for her capture with a hefty reward if returned alive and a substantially lower award if she were to be returned dead. Galinda managed to maintain her composure despite her internal panic, “Sir Avaric, clearly you do not know your colors. Lady Sarima was as the color of fresh cream, not that of a spring leaf.”

“But you cannot deny the likeness. What if she somehow has tricked him, somehow disguised herself?” Avaric pressed, “I know it is not proper to speak of Fiyero’s extracurricular activities but I feel compelled to share that he wanted to return to the Philosophy Club a second time after our initial visit. He was obsessed with somebody there-“

“I fail to see how any of that matters,” Galinda interrupted but was again quickly cut off by Avaric.

“It matters because this creature was in the basement of the club, the one they seek, the one I think is with Fiyero,” he neglected to speak of his many experiences with the so-called creature. It made no matter. Honestly, Avaric didn’t find her to be that much of a threat- she couldn’t put up much of a fight before and he doubted that much has changed. It was the handsome reward that came with her return that interested him.

That and the potential access to her that he could gain for that return. 

Galinda scoffed, “Clearly you’re the one who isn’t capable of intelligent thought, Sir Avaric. Sarima and that creature are not one in the same. It’s simply not possible. Do you think that she’s capable of shedding her skin as easily as a snake? And besides, if she were capable of that type of magic, do you think that she would have allowed them to keep her captive in a basement?”

“Why are you so defensive about it? Do you know something?”

“I’m not defensive. I’m simply appalled that you’re so delusional,” she huffed, “I don’t have time for your idiocracy. I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Like thinking?” Avaric poked, “I think you’re wrong. But I suppose that we’ll find out soon enough.”

“How will we do that? Fiyero has taken his leave with Sarima.”

“I’ve alerted the Gale Force to them. They’ll be looking for them along the way to Winkie Country. Just as a precaution. I don’t want him to come under any harm,” Avaric spoke with a tone of arrogance and a slight hint of threat, “and if I’m wrong, he will thank me for being concerned about his well-being. That is unless he were trying to smuggle her out of Oz to begin with. Then he may be angry.”

Galinda had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from speaking out in anger. It appeared to her that Avaric not only knew what Fiyero was up to but that he also lacked remorse for putting his friend in the line of danger from the Gale Force. They weren’t exactly known for their gentle tactics, “Fiyero would do no such thing and you’ll find that the Gale Force will be coming for you after wasting their time.”

Avaric laughed, “I highly doubt that. They’ll be singing my praises for catching such a dangerous predator. Who knows what kind of damage that thing could do to our fair Oz?”

“Imagine the eyesores she could cause,” Galinda said facetiously, “if you’ll excuse me, Sir Avaric, I really must go now. The conversation has been…stimulating.”

“If you’ve considered this conversation stimulating, you’ve clearly never been properly stimulated.”

His words were nauseating and she honestly could not understand how Shen Shen tolerated him. Galinda rose from the bench, paper in hand and walked away from Avaric before he could realize that she had taken it with her. 

Fiyero and Elphaba were in danger and she had precious little time to warn them and knew of absolutely no way to do so.


	13. Chapter 13

Galinda looked over her shoulder again. This part of town wasn’t exactly the safest, mostly because it was so isolated. Somebody could hurt her out here and nobody would ever know it. How unfortunate a life, that she would die trying to rescue somebody that she didn’t even know. Galinda had far too much to live for and decided then and there that she wouldn’t risk it.

The girl would be able to handle herself.

Or would she?

She resigned to staying with her original mission. The old woman had to be out here somewhere. It was where she’d met her only a few days ago, completing the promise to deliver the mysterious book to Elphaba and Fiyero. 

Even the trees seemed to bend over her, the leaves extending as if they could grab her at any moment. The skittering of animals in the forest caused her flesh to rise with goosebumps and she felt her breathing quicken. Would she really die out here?

“This is not a safe place for you dearie,” a voice spoke behind her, causing her to jump.

Galinda spun on her heel, dress whirling around her in a manner that she would have enjoyed normally but was too frightened to do so right now, “You…you, I came looking for you. There’s trouble.”

Yackle smiled beneath the shadow of her cloak, “There’s always trouble.”

“No,” she shook her head at the old woman, “you don’t understand. A-avaric. He told the Gale Force about Elphaba. They’re going to look for her. He thinks that she’s the one who escaped from the Philosophy Club. The one they want dead.”

“As she is.”

“But…you were trying to help her,” Galinda said quietly, “why would you help her if you’re just going to let them capture her?”

“Who said they’d capture her?”

The young girl was confused. There was no way that Elphaba or Fiyero would be able to take on the Gale Force by themselves and the disguise that the book had provided did not seem to be of any help in truly disguising her, at least not to Avaric, “I don’t understand.”

“The Gale Force looks for who the Wizard says to look for.”

“Won’t he say that they have to go after Elphaba? If she’s supposedly such a menace to society, he would won’t her captured or destroyed.”

Yackle extended a crooked old hand, the flesh as dry as the sands of the Salt Desert, “Why don’t we ask him ourselves? He would like an audience with the fair Lady Galinda anyway.”

Galinda felt the color drain from her face, “The Wizard wants to see me?” 

“He’s requested an audience personally. Come, child. You can ask him of Elphaba’s fate for yourself,” Yackle promised, her hand still extended. She watched Galinda and could see the few wheels in her head turning, attempting to reason whether or not she should accept the offer. Finally, the girl step forward, hands at her side. 

“Take me to see the Wizard.”

xx

“I don’t understand,” Elphaba said, studying the slope of the mountains, “I don’t see it.”

Fiyero almost felt as if he was taking away her innocence, trying to point out the erotic slope of the mountain range. She’d overheard some other members of the caravan talk about Kumbricia’s Pass when they had stopped to let the animals rest, “You’re looking too closely at the details of the mountain,” he answered her, hands resting on her shoulders from behind, “Look, straight ahead. Try to let your eyes blur just a bit.”

She tried again, looking not at the mountain range but at the sky behind it and suddenly it became all clear. Her cheeks started to burn furiously and the corner of her lips turned up, “That is horrific. And most definitely thought up by a part of the male species.”

“It was my father,” he teased her but was unable to keep a straight face, especially when she laughed off his explanation.

“It barely looks like a woman. It’s definitely a stretch of the imagination,” she said, turning to face him. It was a lie, of course. Once she saw it, there was no denying that Kumbricia’s Pass looked exactly like a woman lying on her back, legs spread and inviting the world inside. 

His hand came to rest on her hip of its own volition and he pulled it away, embarrassed by his own actions. They had kissed, once, and yes they had held each other close during the journey but it hadn’t progressed beyond that and he would never push for anything more, “Sorry.”

Elphaba reached for his hand, paused for a second there before placing it back at her hip, “-yero,” her voice was softer than normal but her eyes said everything she didn’t know how to. 

He smiled at the broken syllable of his name, “Yero? Are you changing my name now?”

She started to explain that it wasn’t intentional, that it was nerves and a complete lack of understanding of exactly what was happening between them, a complete ignorance to what the feelings that she was having meant but she couldn’t. It was easier just to go along with it, “And what if I am?”

“I suppose it’s only fair since I’ve changed yours, at least temporarily,” he said in a quiet voice, drawing her a little closer not out of physical desire but out of necessity to keep their conversation private.

“Yero and Fae,” she murmured, “because your new name isn’t obvious in the least.”

Fiyero laughed at the bluntness of her statement, started to retort when he felt her tense in his arms. Her expressive eyes had fixed on somebody behind them and he could see the color drained from her face. It was strange but it was almost like he could see the emerald undertone to her flesh, “Fae, what is it?”

“The book,” she uttered, eyes fixed behind him, “get the book.”

“No, we don’t-“

“There are men behind you with guns and spears and-“ She was cut off by the guards pushing the two of them aside, making rude comments about their closeness. They didn’t even cast a second glance in her direction.

“Who are they?” She asked Fiyero, hand clasped with his for dear life.

“The Gale Force,” he whispered in a low voice, reaching behind him to open the door to their wagon, “get inside. Get the book. Do not open it, do not use it unless we need it, Fae. We don’t need to make ourselves obvious if we can at all help it.”

Elphaba slipped into the wagon and discreetly pulled the book from the satchel. It still called to her, causing angry heat to coarse through her veins. She pressed her palm against the cover of it, trying to silence it’s hum, it’s call to her. She could not risk their lives out of curiosity. She would not risk their lives out of curiosity. 

Outside the wagon, Fiyero stood watching the troops interrogate other members of the caravan, holding up a piece of paper with a green woman drawn onto it. He felt a pit in his stomach rise. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing that his Fae was merely an illusion right now. They drew closer and closer to the carriage until they had him backed against it. He fought to stay calmn.

“You, playboy. Have you seen this beast? There’s been rumor that she’s been seen around these parts, may have been trying to escape the city.”

Fiyero glanced at the paper, maintained a cool exterior before he glanced back up, “Never in my life have I seen a green woman. If I had, I most certainly wouldn’t be obliged to engage in conversation. Especially since she’s wanted for- murder?”

“Amongst other things,” the troop sneered, “Your lady friend. Where did she go?” 

Elphaba heard him asking for her and she held her breath. What was she to do? What if suddenly, the disguise were to cast off from her skin? She couldn’t be caught. She wouldn’t be returned to that place, especially after everything- the fresh air, the freedom of being able to move about without shackles, the feeling of the sun on her skin. 

The feelings.

She began to reach for the book to open it when she saw the fingertips curled around the book’s edge start to cast off the porcelain flesh in favor of the green that she’s always known. She pulled her hand away and the porcelain returned quickly. She held her hand up, eyes widened at the sudden change.

Looking down, Elphaba plunged her hand against the book, laying her palm flat against it. Once again, the porcelain faded once again, revealing her true color. She quickly pulled her hand away from the book and kicked it beneath the seat when the door to the wagon opened.

“Fae, honey, these men want to know if you’ve seen a green girl. I’ve explained to them that you’ve been with me but they prefer to hear it from you.”

Even her breath trembled as she looked outside the door to the troopers surrounding them. Her hands sat folded in her lap and she shook her head slowly, “No. No green people. Sh-should we be worried about an attack on the caravan?”

The hardened demeanor of the troop questioning Fiyero seemed to soften when he saw the terror in Elphaba’s eyes, “No, ma’am. If there is danger, it will be handled.”

“Thank you,” she answered softly, using her terror to her advantage. It seemed to be working, “Yero, come inside. Let the men do their job.”

The troops moved on without another word as Fiyero slipped into the wagon beside her and closed the door. He immediately put his arms around her, trying to calm her. She was exuding fear, “It’s okay,” he murmured into her hair, “Fae, you’re safe. I will never let anything happen to you, I swear it.”

She buried her face against his shoulder, eyes closed tightly. Outside, she heard people being ordered to get back into their wagons and for the drivers to continue their journeys, that this pass was not safe. She refused to open her eyes or even speak until she felt the wagon lurch forward.

“Yero,” she murmured, “the book.”

“We don’t need it now,” he saw it peeking out from underneath the seat across from them and knelt forward to retrieve it. 

“No, the book. I can’t use it,” rather than trying to explain it, Elphaba reached out with both hands, took the book from him. 

Fiyero watched as the disguise melted away from her hands first, then her forearms, moving slowly upward. He pulled the book from her hands quickly before it could do anymore, “How?”

“When they were outside, I was going to- I didn’t want you to get hurt. And then I touched it and that happened. I can’t use the book. Not if we’re going to be safe,” her voice was trembling.

“We’ll be safe,” he tried to promise her again but now he was unsure of whether or not he believed his own words. He examined the book in his hands and wondered how it is that a book that was supposed to keep her safe and grant her safe passage would so easily give away her identity in a time of distress. He tucked the book back away in her satchel and pulled her into his arms.

“Our journey is still long,” he whispered, “but I swear to you that I will protect you at all costs.”

Elphaba clung to him tightly, never once doubting his words but fearing them. There were too many things in this world to love and he was one of them.


	14. Chapter 14

Elphaba stood on the edge of the mountain, the wind whipping long raven tresses about her. Her eyes, the color of the thousand year grassland below, were entranced by all that she’d seen. The sun tickled her skin and wrapped her in a warmth that she’d never known. She had quit dreaming about what the world was like many years ago, having resigned to the fact that she would never see it. 

The reality, however, was so much better than any dream she could have ever concocted. 

“You should take care,” Fiyero teased, grabbing onto her hand, “the wind is strong enough that you may just fly away.”

“It’s beautiful here,” she said, eyes still trained on the horizon, “how could you ever leave this place?”

“For me, there was a world outside of the Vinkus. A metropolitan world of architecture and education,” he explained, “a world that hustled and bustled, where peace was merely a word and not a state of being, where constant excitement was the standard. It calls to somebody who has never known it.”

“And now?”

“Now there are other things calling to me,” his tone had changed and now his gaze was shifted to her.

Hearing the subtle change in his voice, Elphaba turned to him, “I don’t recall calling to you.” She had developed quite the sense of sarcasm in the past few days. Or perhaps she’d always been sarcastic and was comfortable enough to let him see that. 

“Oh, but you did. You called to every piece of my being without a word. You have slain me and now I am yours and yours alone,” Fiyero said, his princely charm shining through with every word.

If it had not been for his betrothal, Elphaba could imagine he would have quite the following of women calling upon him. If they even bothered to care that he was betrothed to begin with.

“There was something in that book that we’re reading that described you. What was that word again- ah, yes. Delusional,” she matched his smile, stepping away from the ledge and towards him, “you already belong to another. If not physically, legally.”

“I make the laws, I break the laws,” he shrugged, “Sarima’s family is in no position of power, no position to cause an uprising or punishment for breaking the marital agreement.”

“You really don’t have to do that.”

Fiyero reached out to her and pulled her into his arms, growing more comfortable every day with doing so. It hadn’t been lost on him that she stopped tensing up when he did, “Oh, I have to do it. I have no choice. We are all but puppets in a grand play, remember?”

Elphaba let her arms hang limply at her side in physical protest of his assault of her own words against her, “I don’t find you amusing.”

“I find you breathtaking.”

“Now,” she reminded him, “we’ll talk when this façade is gone.”

“Now,” he remarked, “you are beautiful. But you are breathtaking.”

“Delusional,” she murmured in half protest, turning up her chin towards him, “I’m dangerous. I’m a wanted woman. I’m not a choice, I’m a death sentence.”

“Then I gladly accept death.”

“What if that isn’t what I want for you? There’s so much uncertainty about the future. What if I’m captured, what if they capture you, what about this book? There’s so much that we don’t know-“

Laying a finger over her lips, he stopped her, “The future is always uncertain. But there are things I am certain about. I’m certain that I want to be with you always, no matter what the circumstance. I cannot tell you how or why, but I’ve known from the moment I saw you that it was to be. Maybe I knew before I even saw you. You yourself believe that we are but puppets in a grand play, then it is destined that we are so.”

“Perhaps it’s only destined a short period of time, then what?”

“Then we’ll make each moment last.”

Elphaba sighed softly, resigning that he would never stop persisting. She would never be able to make it far, not without him at her side. Though physically, he may have been close, mentally she had been holding him at a distance, preparing for the worst. She trusted him, trusted his word that he would protect her.

She didn’t trust herself. 

There was so much about her that she didn’t understand; the skin, the power, and now this book? How could he want to be a part of such thing? 

“Stop,” he urged her gently, hands moving to rest on her hips, “stop thinking. No matter what you answer, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Who says that I am thinking?” She asked, caught off guard that he already seemed to know her so well.

“If there’s anything I’ve know about you in the short time that you’ve been in my life, Fae, it’s that you think constantly.”

“And you don’t seem to think at all.”

“It’s why we’re a good pair,” he grinned knowingly. She was right. He’d always been all impulse, sometimes to his detriment but at least in this case it was to his advantage. Or so he thought.

“You’re maddening,” she sighed heavily, “absolutely maddening.”

Fiyero smiled, “And luckily, I’m all yours.” He had to make sure that she knew. Though they still had the thousand year grasslands to cross, he wanted her to know now that nothing could possibly happen once they arrived home that would change that. Nothing would change them.

Elphaba couldn’t fight him anymore. She knew him enough to know his persistence and she felt as if she knew him more every day. From his actions, from his stories about growing up in the Vinkus, from the very way he looked at her. He was but an open book that she could actually read. 

She knew enough to know that the physical feelings that he incurred with a simple glance couldn’t be common. 

“Yero?”

“Fae,” he whispered in response, noting the change in her tone.

Though she felt simply foolish doing so, she stretched upwards on the tips of her toes until her lips had settled against his. It was an exhilarating feeling, what he did to her with something so simple. It was as if her skin was electric and her insides were burning up. She’d never felt anything like it before and she never wanted to stop feeling it. 

The kiss wasn’t as soft as the first time, it was more urgent, as if their frustrations had culminated in such a simple act. His fingertips wound through her hair and hers traced the nape of his neck. When the kiss broke, neither pulled back but remained close, breathing each other’s air. 

“Always?” She asked, her breathing uneven, “You swear it?”

“I swear it on my life,” his answer was unwavering and he sealed his promise with another kiss.

xx

The Wizard watched as the lithe blond approached the altar, debating on whether or not he should use his typical approach with guests. He decided after a few moments that the girl would scare far too easily. She would be easily swayed into his way of thinking and therefore would not share his secrets.

Though he rarely afforded an audience in his mortal form, he had to make sure that the girl wouldn’t interfere with his plans.

“Ah, Miss Galinda Arduenna of the Uplands. I have been waiting for you, young lady,” he said, stepping out from behind a green velvet curtain. 

Immediately, Galinda stopped and bowed her head, “Your Wizardness, it is such an honor to meet you,” she glanced at the altar behind him, “I’d heard that you were-“

“It’s what people want,” he dismissed quickly, “it is an honor that I’m willing to share my secrets with you.”

Galinda’s blue eyes widened and she felt her heart start to race with excitement, “But why me?”

“Because you are incredibly special, Miss Galinda. Madame Morrible has informed me of your sorcery skill,” he spoke in a tone of authority to her, knowing well that Morrible was less than enthused by her skill- or lack thereof. But if he was to silence this girl, the truth had to be twisted and there was none better than he to twist it, “Tell me what you know about Nessarose Thropp.”

“The Wicked Witch of the East?” Galinda asked, her blood running cold at the mention, “I know that she’s practically a terrorist, responsible for Munchinkland being a separatedist state. I’ve heard that the Munchkins don’t even care for her. She’s a hideodeous person.”

The Wizard nodded. She wouldn’t take much convincing at all, “And tell me what you know of Elphaba Thropp.”

“Elphaba Thr-“ Galinda started and then shook her head, “She’s the Witch’s sister?”

“The one and only. Elphaba was taken from her family at an early age, in the middle of the night. The family mourned for a long time over the loss and for many years it was feared that the Thropp family would come to an end with no certain heir to throne of Munchkinland. Then, unexpectedly, Nessarose was born. Some speculate it was a habit of the mother that the two children turned out with unfortunate physical appearance, some speculate that it was a fault in the bloodline of Brother Frexspar the Godly but-“

“She doesn’t have arms. But Elphaba she’s-“

“Green,” the Wizard finished, “So you have seen her.”

Galinda felt the color drain from her face, “N-no, no. I haven’t. I don’t-“

“It’s okay,” The Wizard assured her, “you and she will work together to bring the unrest in Oz to an end. Eventually. It is I who arranged her release from captivity.”

“If it is you then why is the Gale Force upon her? Why is her life seemingly in danger?”

He laughed at the question, “My child, the Gale Force turned up nothing on their search and that has been reported to those interested. It is my intention to keep Elphaba safe until she is needed.”

“Until she is needed? What is it you need her for and why wouldn’t you just have her do it now rather than to wait?” 

“Elphaba is to be the Governor of Munchkinland but first she must fight for the throne that is rightfully her,” he explained with a knowing smile, “for many years she’s been locked away. She barely values her freedom let alone the things of this world that she has no knowledge of.”

“I don’t understand,” Galinda said slowly, “I don’t understand how what you’re doing is going to get rid of the Witch of the East and how it’s going to help Elphaba. Or what I have to do with any of this. None of it makes any sense.”

“ In order for Elphaba to truly fight, to be ready to take her place as Governor of Munchkinland, she needs time to grow,” his answer was as cryptic as the plan that he’d provided her. It worked to his advantage that the blond was so easily manipulated and confused. She’d never ask how she was to grow or how she was to take back Munchkinland from her twisted sister, “Galinda, I want you to become an Ambassador of sorts to Munchkinland. You will assume the title of Galinda the Good Witch of the North. You are bright, a shining star amongst a dull and lifeless sea of humanity.”

Galinda smiled then, flipped her hair over her shoulder knowingly, “Of course. But won’t I be ill received in Munchkinland?”

“Not at all. They need a beacon of hope in a time of darkness. You will be that beacon, Miss Galinda. Madame Morrible will help to prepare you to assume this role. It is my expectation that you will be ready to travel to Munchkinland on a regular basis in three months’ time. Now, I will entertain no more questions. Be on your way. We will see more of each other, Lady Galinda.”

“Yes, your Ozness,” she bowed once again and turned to leave only slightly confused and more excited. Her talent hadn’t been recognized nearly as well as it should have been since she left the Uplands. It was high time that somebody noticed that she was more than a mediocre student. She paused to look back at the door’s to the Wizard’s throne room and she smiled to herself.

There was nothing to worry about. Not for herself, not for Elphaba, and certainly not for the Munchkins- and she was to be a part of all of it.

xx

Morrible emerged from behind the curtain and looked to the Wizard in question, “She asked far less questions than I would have expected.”

“Yes,” he spoke, looking to his companion, “fortunately for us, she’s easily confusified. She never questioned why Elphaba would entertain the idea of fighting to take back the Governorship of Munchkinland, especially somebody of her own blood.”

An evil grin spread over the lips of the aged woman, her beady eyes sparkling even in the dimly lit room, “The power that she possesses now is unmatched, unlike anything that I’ve ever seen. A few months with the book-“

“And with something to fight for,” the Wizard added.

“Munchkinlandn will belong to Oz once more,” Morrible finished, “it’s a genius plan, if it goes accordingly.”

It was the Wizard’s turn to grin, “Ah, but it will. The troops that I sent after the caravan report that Miss Elphaba has already grown quite close to our Arjiki Prince already. Imagine what time will bring, how her power will grow-“

Morrible nodded, now certain that the plan was infallible, “And how much she’ll fight to hold onto that which she loves.”


	15. Chapter 15

Though she hadn’t thought it possible, Elphaba found the Thousand Year Grasslands to be even more beautiful from a distance. Kiamo Ko was nestled in the mountains providing her a view of the world similar to the Kells. Perhaps it was that she’d spent most of her life locked in a basement that influenced her love of the view from the highest of heights, she wasn’t sure. She just knew that everything was so much more breathtaking when perched atop the wind, the breeze filtering through her hair and the rays of the sun tickling her skin.

She could easily live here forever.

The hum of the book was quiet here, locked away in a location unknown to her. The moment they’d arrived, she’d asked Fiyero to take the book away from her, to hide it where she would not know the location. Elphaba knew he was disappointed by the request, both of them with the full knowledge that the book would dispose of the appearance she’d assumed for their journey. 

It wasn’t an issue of trust or fear for her. It was living her life as a normal person, forgetting all that had happened to her and moving on with her life. 

The issue was not up for debate as far as she was concerned. 

Fiyero watched her from the doorway, a smile of contentment upon his face. No matter how large their home, no matter how much she complained that she could get lost in it, he always knew where she would be found. In the tallest turret, the highest floor, she had made her home most typically perched in the window or reading a stack of books. Everything about her was enchanting.

He closed the distance between them, sliding a hand slowly onto her hip and tightening his grip slightly before pressing his body against hers. His lips met the soft skin where her neck and shoulder met and then moved upward to the spot just below her ear, the spot that always made her melt against him. “If it were possible, I think you’d fly away.”

She smiled, her eyes closed, “If it were possible, I would fly away. But I would take you with me, I find you useful.”

“Oh? And what are my uses for you, my dear Fae?” His voice was low and suggestive, lips still trailing over her neck.

“Well…you’re doing that, that’s useful,” she managed in staggered breaths, “and I’m fond of you.”

It was much more than a fondness that she had for him. Even if she were able to explore the world, talk to others and share the kind of intimacy that she shared with him, she knew that nobody would ever be the same. It wasn’t that he’d saved her, or that he’d showed her this world that she’d come to love so much. 

It was that the first time they met, he was kind and good. He looked at her like nobody else ever had and it was something she’d never forget. 

“You’re fond of me,” he repeated, wrapping his arms around her, “and I am fond of you. So you had better not fly away from me.”

Elphaba turned in his arms and moved her arms around his neck, “Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

Their lips met briefly, only a tease and he pulled away from her to trace a finger along his cheek. Sometimes he could imagine her skin, the same brilliant emerald that her eyes were, and he searched for a way to tell her it was okay to be herself. He loved her, everything about her, but he wouldn’t say it.

Not until she was herself again, not until her skin was the color it was meant to be. He’d never in a million years want her to think that he’d fallen in love with the illusion and not who she really was. 

It’s the same reason that he held her at a distance intimately, the same reason that their relationship in the physical manner had been limited to no more than stolen kisses and wandering hands. 

“Now who’s the one thinking, Yero?” Her voice was no more than a mere whisper, her eyes teeming with mischief and her lips set in a smile to match. 

“Frightening, isn’t it?” 

“Not at all,” she answered, brushing her lips against his, “but I think you should keep doing what you were doing if you’re just going to stand there while you think.”

A wide smile spread across his lips and he dipped his head to place a feather light kiss on her lips, “Like this?”

“Not quite,” she uttered, “but almost.”

Fiyero moved his lips down along her jaw line to just beneath her ear once more, “Certainly not here?” He teased but her staggered breathing told her otherwise. His hand moved up along the small of her back, tracing circles through the fabric of her dress. 

Never in her life could she have imagined that she would actually want to be kissed or touched the way he did her, that she would want more than that, but she did. She wanted to give every inch of herself to him, wanted to feel the heat that he was capable of causing to build to a frenzy inside her. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, defined from working about the grounds during the days and she whimpered softly, a plea for more.

A plea that went unanswered when he pulled away, “We should…we should stop,” his breathing was heavy and face flushed. When he saw the disappointment in her face, he kissed her gently, “I made us lunch. It’s going to go bad if I keep on.”

She smiled weakly and nodded, taking his offered hand before leaving the room with him. As much as she cared for him and for what she knew of his fondness for her, she couldn’t help but have her doubts.

xx

Much to her chagrin, Boq had escorted Galinda deep into the heart of Munchkinland under the director orders of the Wizard and Madame Morrible. The trip made mostly for a great deal of misery, a game of Boq attempting to persuade her into a datey thing and trying to convince her to give up why she was to take a trip to Munchkinland.

He succeeded in neither and she was proud of herself for being able to keep a secret so great. She’d never been good at keeping secrets before, especially ones that promoted her status in society.

The carriage came to a stop outside of a grand estate and Boq exited quickly to help Galinda from the carriage, his cheeks warming at the all too brief touch of her hand in his, “So we’re here. This is Munchkinland.”

Galinda looked around, surprised by the bright colors and overdone décor of the place. It reminded her of childhood dollhouses. The Yellow Brick Road tied in nicely with the sunshiney palate of the city. The town center was not at all what she expected to be, “Where does that Red Brick Road lead? I’ve never heard of the Red Brick Road.”

“It goes to Quadling Country,” Boq answered quickly, proud of his expanse knowledge of his homeland.

She made a face in response, “Why would anybody want to make a road to go there? Everybody knows that Quadlings are disgusting classless people who eat their young.”

Having had a Quadling friend as a child, Boq quickly changed the subject, “The Yellow Brick Road goes to the Emerald City!”

“Everybody knows that,” she groaned, “has Munchkinland always looked like this? The place is run by a Wicked Witch. I would have thought the landscape would look more like it was run by a tyrant, gray and lifeless.”

“Nessarose Thropp? She may be wicked but she’s far from a tyrant. She hasn’t got the strength to be a tyrant,” Boq pointed out, free to speak of his leader as he wanted in his homeland. Trying to explain the governor of Munchkinland in Shiz or any other portion of Oz could easily be construed as treason against the Wizard and he wasn’t interested in a trip to Southstairs.

Maybe this job of being an ambassador to Munchkinland wouldn’t be as easy as Morrible and the Wizard had made it sound. If the Munchkinlanders didn’t think of her as a tyrant, how would she possibly win them over and lead them to freedom by rejoining Oz?

Though the mere thought of it made her ill, Galinda knew what she had to do, “Boq, darling, why don’t we retire to some place more private and we can discuss your homeland? I would so love to hear more about it. I find this place intriguing.”

Boq stood a little taller at her proposition, still a full three and a half inches shorter than her when he was at attention, “Absolutely, Miss Galinda. Anything for you. Anything.”

Quickly, he gathered their bags and started towards the door of the estate they’d been provided during their trip. After he left, Galinda turned to survey her surroundings in silence, attempting to commit it all to memory. 

It made no sense how a place that was so outwardly cheerful could be so silently miserable.


	16. Chapter 16

To the naked eye, Nessroase Thropp was nothing more than a stunning young woman. Her garb was particular and unique, a laced black dress, ornate with impossible buttons up the back and scalloped lace hems falling mid-calf. All of it was covered with a heavy black cloak, designed to hide the fact that she was completely lacking arms- born that way per the local lore. Her shapely legs were adorned in striped in black and white stockings and finished with a peculiar pair of jeweled shoes. 

Rumored to be a gift from her father and magicked by a witch to help her stand upright, the shoes were thought to be the source of her sorcery skills. A tragically beauty of the Thropp bloodline and daughter of a Unionist and somewhat heretical prince, she should have never possessed the power that she did. 

Simply put, she was a complete anomaly.

Galinda sat in the elaborate hall of the Governor’s Mansion, looking for any sign that Elphaba may have once existed in this family. A picture, a trinket dedicated to a dead child, but there seemed to be nothing. 

Maybe the rumor was wrong, maybe the Wizard was wrong. No family could simply abandon their child, especially one that kept a child without arms.

The Governor’s assistant helped the woman to sip a cup of tea before setting it aside and then disappearing from the room, “You come all the way from Shiz? What brings you from the hustle and bustle of university life to Munchkinland?”

“A project,” Galinda answered just as she had been instructed, “foreign exchange if you will.” She extended a single letter to her to the woman, lying it on the table neatly in front of her, “We were instructed to assume temporary citizenship in another area of Oz for thirty day’s time and study the customs of that area. I was quite excited to get Munchkinland. My nanny was from Munchkinland many years ago.”

The latter statement was a lie and she had hoped that the Governor did not take her time associating with people of a lower social class than herself.

“And your project,” Nessa said, ignoring the paper, “it has nothing to do with the separatist status of Munchkinland?”

“Do I appear as a spy to you, Governor?”

“Please, call me Nessarose. Titles are not necessary for women of status such as ourselves,” her smile was tight and somewhat suspect, “I apologize for the suspicions but we’ve had many infiltrates that attempt to reunification or trying to skew my citizen’s beliefs. The freedom of our country is not something I take lightly.”

Galinda smiled to herself. If she were so passionate about her citizens, she wouldn’t be referred to as the Wicked Witch of the East. There was a reason she was considered an evil and heinous tyrant by all of Oz, even if it wasn't immediately obvious. The Wizard had warned her against the Witch’s warm regard and innocent girlish charms, “As it should not be. I appreciate your time, Nessarose. Your land is beautiful here and I would never dream of destroying it. I am simply here to learn and to be a friend to your people.”

Nessarose nodded, “Then you are welcome in my land, Miss Galinda. And you are welcome to visit these grounds any time you may need some assistance. As a matter of fact, I insist that you join me. We shall meet weekly for tea. Around this time?”

It was almost perfect, a chance to cozy up to Nessarose and hopefully obtain more information for the Wizard, “Of course, Governor- I mean, Nessarose.”

“It is set then,” Nessa smiled tightly once more, “for now, however, I am terribly busy attending to my citizen’s needs. I trust you can see yourself out?”

“I can,” Galinda asked, standing in a flurry of pink and glitter, a stark contrast to the darkly dressed Witch, “it has been a pleasure.”

Without response from Nessarose, Galinda turned and left the Governor’s quarters, taking her time as she made her way to the entrance. She could not believe there wasn’t a single trace of Elphaba. Perhaps she would ask about siblings the next time she was here, try to elucidate the story of a lost sister.

Or perhaps a sister that would one day be found.

xx

Elphaba raced through the castle, her hands and dress covered in blood. She didn’t have to ask, she knew exactly where the book was even though Fiyero had never told her. Though it’s hum was quieted in the walls of her new home, it still called to her. Every day it called to her.

Today she had to answer, she didn’t have a choice. Reaching up, she grasped the handle to the cabinet where Fiyero had hidden it but she couldn’t pull it open. She remained frozen there, eyes fixed not on the crimson blood against her flesh but the porcelain lying behind it. 

She wasn’t ready to give it up yet, wasn’t ready to face who she really was. 

Did it matter what she wanted when a life was hanging in the balance?

Trying to shut the thoughts out of her mind, she threw open the cabinet doors and pulled the book from it. It was so hot in her arms. She rushed through the hallways back into the chamber where the dying Monkey lay. 

How people could be so cruel, she would never understand. Fiyero had tried to explain the need for hunting to her, had tried to validate it as a need to provide for food- but there was a difference between animal and Animal. This Monkey had pleaded for its life in broken sentences and still those idiots from Red Windmill tried to kill him. 

Before she could thumb through the book to try to find something to help, the book opened itself. The writing looked less like words and more like sounds. She ran her fingertip across the words, focusing not on the verdigris of her skin but on the spell beneath it. The sounds became more rhythmic as she read them, the book vibrating as she read.

It happened in an instant, there was a flash and a loud squeal of pain from the Monkey and then...

“Wings?” Elphaba asked, her eyes wide in terror and wonder. She reached out to the Monkey, searching for any sign of injury caused by the hunter but she saw none. The spell worked the way she had wanted it to, at least kind of.

The Monkey reached out for Elphaba’s hand, unafraid of her emerald flesh, but he said nothing. The wings seemed to be of no consequence to him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said softly, “I’m sorry.”

Again he didn’t respond, but he let go of her hand. He ran from the window and then leapt from it. Elphaba dashed to the window after him, afraid that the wings may not hurt, that he wouldn’t know how to use them properly but she was proven wrong when she saw him riding the breeze in the opposite direction of Red Windmill. 

She looked down to her hands, green as sin, and then back to the book on the floor. The damage was done and there was no turning back now. There was nothing left to lose. Slowly, she walked back across the room and knelt on the floor next to the book, curious as to what other secrets it may hold.

The book, however, had other ideas. No sooner than she had tried to decipher another page, the book snapped itself shut and refused to be reopened. Though its hum had been silenced, the cover still felt warm as if preserving its power. 

Behind her, the door opened and Elphaba remained hunched over the book, afraid to look up at Fiyero, afraid of what his reaction would be.

Fiyero stood frozen in the doorway, seeing the edges of the book just beyond her, “I thought I heard screaming.”

“You did,” her voice was soft, “these hunters…they’d hurt a Monkey. He was dying and I thought if I could- he could think, Yero. He could plead for his life. He was as alive as you and I. Something had to be done.”

“Fae,” he breathed her name, hoping that it meant what he thought it did.

Elphaba, in all of her natural beauty, turned to look at him with widened brown eyes, “I had to use the book.”


	17. Chapter 17

Fiyero watched from a distance. Her perch by the window hadn’t changed but her demeanor had, it was as if she had lost her freedom in one simple act. It bothered her more to be herself than it did to pretend that she was someone else. In the loss of her façade, her wings had been effectively clipped.

“You swore you wouldn’t fly away,” he murmured from behind her, the distance between them killing him.

“Clearly I could if I wanted. I can give a Monkey wings,” she muttered, shoulders slumped over. 

Even in her sadness there was something elegant about her standing in the window, he thought. “You don’t need wings to fly.”

“I promised that I wouldn’t.”

“But you have,” he answered, reaching out to take old of her hand, “you’ve flown away and I can’t seem to pull you back down.”

She neither pushed him away nor pulled him closer, “Now you’re speaking nonsense. My feet are well grounded, I assure you. To take flight with green skin would to be put out a beacon for those who would see me dead.”

“Your presence is merely physical,” he countered, gently tugging her to him, “come back to me, Fae.”

Elphaba opened her mouth to protest but found his lips on hers, hands pressed firmly into the small of her back. She wouldn’t understand in a million years how he could possibly care for her, but his word held true to her promise. If he could love her like this, why couldn’t she let go of it? She had been green all of her life; it wasn’t a new concept to deal with. It wasn’t a new burden.

It was only one that had been alleviated for a torturously short amount of time.

Her lips broke from his first but only for a short moment before he kissed her again, hands sliding around to grip her hips and bring her closer to him. She whimpered in soft protest but made no effort to pull away from him. 

Fiyero pulled his lips from hers, trailing along her jawline, “I love you, Fae,” he whispered between kisses then pulled away to look into her eyes, “enough so that I risked my life for you, enough that I’d give it up a million times over. This, your skin, this is who you are and I love it. I love you. Please,” he paused to kiss her gently, “come back to me.”

She reached up to trace the diamonds along his the top of his chest, peeking out the top of his chest, “It was normal. Everything was normal and it wasn’t long enough.”

“Or it was too long,” he argued, “long enough to let you get used to it.”

A pathetic laugh erupted from her at his comment, “To get used to being able to walk around Red Windmill like a normal person, and freedom, to not being terrified of water…oh Oz, a bath. To get used to stupid things like hot baths.”

“I can’t take care of Red Windmill or your water aversion,” Fiyero answered, “but I have something as good as the hot bath.”

“Says the one without water issues,” Elphaba retorted, crossing her arms.

“I can prove you wrong.”

She tried not to smile then, “I don’t like being wrong.”

Fiyero smirked at that and took her hand, leading her away from her window and down the stairs of the turret. Though she wouldn’t admit to her curiosity, he could see it in her eyes. It was nice to see something other than sadness and he hoped that his promise would hold up. Fiyero led her into her chambers and sat her on the edge of the bed before going to dig in a small trunk in the corner, “I found it in Red Windmill and bought it,” he explained, searching for the small bottles, “I had a grandmother with an intolerance for water. She always used this.”

“So I can smell like your grandmother?” Elphaba asked, craning her neck to look over his shoulder.

“You are impossible to please,” he sighed and crossed the room with a bottle of lavender oil in his hand. Without taking his eyes off of her, he opened the bottle and emptied a few drops into his hand, “let me see your hand.”

Elphaba did as he asked, eyes fixed with his as he massaged the oil into her hands. The scent of the oil reminded her of the lavender fields in the grasslands and she smiled faintly. He knew her more than she wanted him to. 

“For the record, my grandmother used sandalwood,” he teased, fingertips working down to her wrist.

“I’ll make sure to look for it the next time I’m in Red Windmill,” she answered sarcastically, both of them well knowing that she wouldn’t be making any trips to the town any time soon, if ever.

He could see the pang of realization hit her again and he sat next to her, moving up her forearm, “There’s still the grasslands and the Kells. I know my way around, Elphaba. We can go anywhere. This castle is not your prison. It’s your home.”

His words reached deep inside her, gave her hope when she felt anything but. She moved closer to him, eyes still level with his, “Yero?”

The change in her voice caused him to stop but he said nothing.

“I love you too,” she said softly.

Fiyero smiled then and took hold of the other hand and continued his work. Perhaps he would be able to keep her happy after all. The scent of lavender enveloped them and he could feel her relaxing. 

Silence lingered between them for a few long moments, allowing the heat between them to continue to build. Finally, Elphaba spoke again, “And what of the rest of my body?”

Her words caught him off guard and Fiyero’s hands stopped moving, “I-it can…you can…I mean, I can too. If you want. I mean, I want to. I...” 

Laughing softly at his reaction, she pulled her hand from his and turned her back to him. Slowly, she unbuttoned the front of her gown until it fell from her shoulders and down to her waist. She reached around with slender fingers and pulled the mess of raven locks over her shoulder. Her breathing staggered as she felt his lips on the back of her neck, followed by his hands on her shoulders. 

Responding to her breathing, he continued on, massaging the oil into her shoulders and moving down her back. His lips skimmed along her neck, nipping and sucking gently at her flesh. Fiyero worked his hands along her sides down to her lithe waist, groaning her name at the combination of her soft skin and the oil beneath his hands, “I have waited so long for you,” he murmured against her ear. 

Elphaba turned her head then to catch his lips with hers. Her hands found his and guided them up over her rib cage, urging his exploration of her body. She had once doubted his affections for her but there was no doubt now that he loved her, overwhelmingly so.

Fiyero pulled her down to the bed, shifted so that he was beneath her to give his hands free range of her body and to give her the power to pull away if she chose to, trying to remain mindful of her history. His eyes met hers and then drifted down to her breasts, her slender body, “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, eyes meeting hers once more.

She made quick work of his shirt, anxious to see exactly where the pattern of blue diamonds lead to. Her fingers traced down his chest, following the trail of diamonds, “So are you.”

Their lips met again in a heated kiss, discarding each other’s clothes quickly, each eager to explore the other completely. She pulled away for only a moment, taking in the deep ochre of his skin, the diamonds that traced elegant patterns over his body and finally her eyes met his, deep crystalline blue and taking her in with the same regard that she had for him. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as she moved her body over his, sliding her hands down his chest and abdomen. She smiled to herself at the way he breathed her name as she moved against him, feeling him against her, pulling him inside her. It was like nothing she could have ever imagined. 

He pulled her body against his then, smashing his lips against hers as they moved together. Everything about her was perfect, the way she fit against his body, the way she felt- she was intoxicating. His arms wrapped around her and he moved his lips down her neck, over her sternum and finally to her breasts. He traced his tongue around one hardened nipple, pulled it into his mouth, her reactions only fueling him on further.

His name became a breathless plea falling from her lips repeatedly. She didn’t know if she wanted him to stop or keep going. Elphaba wound her fingers into his hair, holding his head against her chest as he teased her mercilessly. She began to move more frantically, every nerve in her body firing simultaneously, every muscle quivering. 

The moment she tightened around him, he was lost to oblivion. Their limbs remained tangled, hands still tracing gently along planes of the other’s body. In those moments, so many things were unspoken but understood between them. 

Fiyero kissed the tip of her nose lightly softly and she smiled in response. Things were different with him, more than she could have ever imagined things would be. It was more than the intimacy they shared; it was the way that his appearance was different too, the way that he seemed to understand everything about her, and how much he simply wanted her to be happy.

It was all too good to be true.

Through the haze of her thoughts and the overwhelming feeling of being loved the way he loved her, she murmured his name softly, their fingers intertwining, “Yero, my hero.”


	18. Chapter 18

The clouds hung low over Kiamo Ko, flashing from time to time and burgeoning with raindrops not yet spilled. Elphaba scowled at the impending storm and turned her back to the window. Another day in which she would be a prisoner in her supposed home because of the weather. According to Fiyero, rain season had never lasted this long.

She wasn’t certain she believed him. 

Less than gracefully, she tromped down the stairs to find Fiyero holding a letter in his hand, his handsome features twisted into a look of concern and confusion.

“What?” 

The best answer she got was a slight shake of his head, though it didn’t suffice. Though he claimed to be a mighty hunter who could dash in and out of sight so nimbly, she’d proven to be quite agile herself, in her own way. Elphaba moved to him, as though she would embrace him but instead pulled the paper from his hand to scan over it. 

Just as he had suspected, the pupil had surpassed the teacher. 

“Elphaba,” he started, trying to grab the letter from her but it was pointless. She would find out one way or another.

Especially since he would need to depart soon.

The letter dropped from her hand to the floor and she turned to him, “You can’t leave. Fiyero, you can’t go.”

“I have to. If this is true, I must.”

She shook her head fervently, her dark hair falling over her face, “No, you can’t go. What if you-“

“I will be fine. It seems as if the damage done was to Sarima and her family only. There was no direct threat to me,” he said quietly, stooping to pick up the letter, “If I do not go, there will be questions. The broken engagement, a new lover- they will think it was I who did it. They’ll come here, looking for me and answers and then they’ll find-“

She held her hand up, knowing what he was going to say. He had to go and there was no way around it or she would be found. Once again, his life was in danger and it was because of her, “How long will you be gone?”

Fiyero inhaled sharply, knowing that she would not like the answer, “If things go as I prefer, two weeks.”

“And if they don’t?”

“It will be fine. The journey is longer than the troubles I suffer when I arrive,” he tried to assure her, placing his hands on her shoulder, “Fae, it will be okay. We will be okay. When I return, we’ll venture out. The rain will have moved on. We can stay in the Kells for a couple of days,” he offered, “up in the peaks. There’s some berries that grow in the rough up there, few know about them.”

“I don’t care about the Kells or wild berries. I just want you to come back,” she sighed, looking down at his chest, “what if something happens to you? What would I do?”

Though it caused him much unrest to suggest it, he knew there was no other way, “The book. Use the book, find a spell to- do whatever it is you need to protect yourself. But I will be back, I swear it.”

“Wait until tomorrow,” she pleaded with him, “let me look through the book. Find something to protect you before you go. Yero, I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Fiyero cupped her face in his hands, nodded ever so slightly before he kissed her. The kiss quickly went from tender to urgent, as though they were saying goodbye forever rather than simply for a few days. He pulled her closer then, fingers running through her hair.

Elphaba pulled his shirt from his body and then dragged her fingernails lightly down his chest, causing him to shiver. Every kiss was abbreviated with another declaration of love, of desire, of need for him to come home in one piece.

He moved his hands slowly up from her waist to rest at her breasts, teasing her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress before sliding his hands around to the back of her neck to undo the buttons of her dress. Tomorrow he would journey to settle this matter but today, he would stay and show Elphaba exactly how much he loved her even though he knew that one day would never be enough. 

xx

From a distance, Kiamo Ko wasn’t nearly as impressive as Avaric though it would be. 

He supposed that he should have known better. Though Fiyero was a Vinkun prince, it was still the Vinkus and a population of mostly uncivilized hunters and foragers. It would still be two days of traveling before he would find himself at the castle’s door, perhaps he would have time to find the charm in the uninspired turrets.

Though the exterior left much to be desired, he knew that what he found inside would exceedingly make up for what the structure lacked.

xx

Galinda stood at the boundaries of Munchkinland with Boq. She had been called to return to the Emerald City but something didn’t feel right about it. A new encampment of soldiers had appeared in the past days, just a few hundred feet beyond the borders, as if they were waiting to invade. She had not been informed of any military action to take place and she knew that Nessa had not threatened Oz in any way.

As a matter of fact, Nessa was not nearly the threat that Oz perceived her to be. She was a bit selfish, a bit deprived of affection, and a little misguided, sure- but she definitely wasn’t wicked. Though it wouldn’t be proper to ask somebody how they came to be so ill perceived was not socially acceptable, Galinda found herself on the verge multiple times. 

“What do you think they’re here for?” Boq asked, glancing over towards Galinda. He couldn’t help but noticed how much she had seemingly grown over the past few weeks. Like she understood that there was a world outside of her own.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, her voice uncharacteristically soft, “but I don’t think that I like them here. Something feels…wrong.”

He had tried several times to understand why Galinda was really in Munchkinland but had been unsuccessful. Trying again wouldn’t do him any good, as good as she was with keeping her little secret. Still, he needed to know, “Should I stay here with my family?”

Galinda backed away from the carriage, “We’re both staying here. I need to talk to Nessa before we leave.” She gave him no time to respond before she turned and began towards the Governor’s mansion as quickly as her feet would carry her.

The Wizard had sent her to be an ambassador of peace, not a siren of civil unrest.

xx

Elphaba lay in Fiyero’s arms, their limbs tangled together. Already the sun was setting and a dread that no amount of lovemaking could eliminate began to overwhelm them. Accusations had been made that had to be addressed but if Fiyero was unable to convince them, if he couldn’t clear his name-

“Let me come with you,” she murmured into chest, “I want to come with you.”

“No,” he answered immediately, “if you come, you’ll be found.“

“And if you’re killed, I’ll be lost.”

Fiyero remained silent. He’d never be able to forgive himself if anything happened to her, especially at his expense, “I can’t let that happen.”

“It’s not up to you. You risked your life for me, now it’s my turn to do the same. I can bear firsthand witness that you had nothing to do with Sarima’s death. You’ve been with me this entire time,” she argued, “and I’m me. If they don’t believe my word, they’ll be offended by my appearance and drop it anyway.”

“So that’s your plan? To vilify yourself to save me? I would never let that happen, Fae.”

“I’ll use the book. I’ll magic some wings like I did for Chistery and follow you. I can be at your side or I can be at your back, but I’m not letting you go alone. I’ve already decided,” she spoke with defiance, pushing herself up on her elbows so that she could look him squarely in the eye, “my life is nothing without you in it. I’d rather die at your side than live in your absence.”

He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and then traced his finger down her cheek, “We aren’t going to die.”

Relief washed through her at his words and she leaned down to kiss him, fingers intertwining with his, a rainbow of ochre and emerald. She’d seldom used the book, only when it would allow her, but she also knew that it hadn’t failed her yet. Whatever power she had, she’d use it to protect them.

She had to.

There was too much to be lost if she couldn’t.


	19. Chapter 19

“I trusted you!”

Galinda hadn’t even made it past the front gates of the Governor’s mansion before Nessarose could make her accusations. Quite frankly, she had never seen the deformed woman move as quickly as she was now, her jeweled shoes nearly blinding with each step in the sunlight. 

“And I, you,” Galinda responded once the distance was closed between the two women, “What have you done to draw military attention from Oz? I told you that I was sent to help and now-“

“I have done nothing,” Nessa snapped at her, “I complied. I listened. I confided in you and this is how you repay me?”

Nessa’s features were twisted not into an appearance of rage, but of disappointment and confusion. There was almost a sadness painted upon her tragically beautiful features. 

Galinda couldn’t help but think that she wasn’t a tyrant at all, she was simply a lonely girl in need of a friend, “This was not my doing, Nessa,” she answered calmly, withdrawing her previously used tone of accusation, “and apparently it was not yours either. I don’t understand why they are here but perhaps this is where I may be of use.”

“Right,” the armless woman scowled, “you can tell them exactly where to find me.”

“No,” she replied, “they won’t need to know because you’ll be with me. I’m going to prove to you that I’m truly here as an ambassador of peace.”

“Or deliver me straight into captivity.”

“Then send one of your men instead,” Galinda offered, “let me prove this to you. I am here as your friend, as a bringer of peace. Nothing more. I swear it.”

Nessa eyed her warily and then turned to look at the man on her right, “Trism. You’ll go with Lady Galinda to the borders. I expect a full report if you return alive.”

“It won’t be necessary,” Galinda interrupted her, “because I will return with a full report myself.”

xx

“Blasted book!” Elphaba cursed, trying to tear open the pages. The corner of her eyes stung with tears as she frantically fought with the heavy leatherbound cover of the mysterious book that seemed to bring her nothing but trouble, “You have to open. You have to let me find…now is not the time!”

A loud rumble of thunder drew her attention from the book momentarily and she looked to the window, and beyond it, the raging storm that seemed to have appear out of nowhere. It was as if Fiyero himself had conjured it to keep her from following him.

He wasn’t supposed to leave without her.

Elphaba understood why he left; it didn’t mean that she’d like it or comply with it, given that the book would cooperate. She tried once more to pry the edges of the cover open but the thing wouldn’t relent. Hunching over, she muttered into the cover, “Useless thing.”

It seemed to dislike that as the cover grew warmer and warmer, causing her to jerk away from it suddenly. She stared at it wide eyed as though it may finally comply with her wishes but it stopped only moments later. Elphaba stood then, kicked the thing across the room and walked to the window. 

The storm had to clear soon. She would find a way to catch up to him, if she could figure out which direction he had gone in.

Chistery sat in the window, running his fingertips through his fur. He looked at Elphaba as though he wanted to say something but though she tried her damndest, he wouldn’t utter a word. He did seem to understand her though-

“Chistery,” she said suddenly as epiphany struck, “can you fly in this?”

The monkey nodded, suddenly at attention.

“Go,” she spoke urgently, “find Fiyero. Keep an eye on him for me. If there’s danger, you’ll come back and lead me to him. Do you understand?”

Once more, Chistery nodded only more emphatically this time. He took flight without further instruction, gracefully riding the heavy winds as though they were no more than a gentle breeze. 

Elphaba hoped that he would be able to track Fiyero quickly and that there would be no incident. She turned around to look back to the book. In the meantime, she would have to figure out how to brave the elements on her own since the book would be of no use. 

xx

Commander Cherrystone of the Gale Force was a force to be reckoned with. He was tall and brooding, even at a young age many found him to be intimidating. His intelligence and cunning made him a natural choice for Commander despite his age. He directed his men with tact and though some of them were older, they listened, followed every barked command without question.

There had only been one that had not and his punishment had sufficed to scare the rest into line.

Despite all of his alluring qualities as a leader, however, Cherrystone had little preparation for dealing with the livid woman before him now. She was petite and blond, little more than half his size, and yet she was confronting him in front of his own men as though he were her child.

Cherrystone, having been given director orders that he knew must be followed to the letter, was having a difficult time swallowing the demeanor of Oz’s so-called Ambassador to Munchkinland.

“Furthermore, I have been in this land for months and there has been no threatening action of any sort, Commander. Your presence is not only unwanted, it’s unwarranted. Does the Wizard know that you’ve chosen to set up post in such an ominous manner? I assure you that he’s not going to like it when he finds out.”

A small gathering of soldiers had gathered to bear witness to what they’d never thought possible, smirks and grins plastered on their faces as the overdressed woman lay into him. Despite his glares and grimaces, none of them moved.

“Yes, well, Lady, I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“It is Lady Galinda and I would expect a proper Commander of the Gale Force to understand who their ambassadors are!” She snapped at him, “Your apologies simply will not do. I command that you leave this area at once and report back to the Emerald City. It is within my rights to tell you to do so.”

Cherrystone glanced around, warmth raising to his cheeks. It wasn’t exactly in her rights to do so, but he’d received direct orders from the Wizard himself that he was to occupy the borders of Munchkinland until Lady Galinda told him otherwise. He didn’t realize that it would be at the cost of his dignity to follow such orders, “I hope that you will accept my apologies in spite of that, Lady Galinda. You must understand that when there are reports of suspicious activities at the borders of Oz, it is our responsibility to investigate them.”

“You aren’t investigating anything. You’re intimidating an innocent people. Please don’t make me ask you again. I want this camp packed up and I want you gone within the hour, do you understand me Cherrystone?” Galinda was full of rage that her position of peace had been compromised by somebody so mindless. She could see that the man was balking at her authority and it only further fueled her anger.

Without another word, she skillfully spun on her heel to walk away from the Commander. Though she wasn’t watching to ensure that he had followed through with her demands, she could hear him quietly ordering his men to pack up. It required every muscle in her body to keep her lips from twitching up into an excited smile that she’d successfully completed her first meaningful duty as Ambassador to Munchkinland. 

It pained her to remain so demure when she had done something so incredibly powerful but she supposed it was simply a burden of the job. 

When she returned to the Governor’s mansion, she found Nessarose pacing just inside the door, head hung low. Even the sound of the door closing didn’t draw her attention from the floor. It wasn’t until Trism spoke that she turned her attention upward.

“Ma’am, Commander Cherrystone and the Gale Force have vacated their premise at the request of Lady Galinda and no further military encampments seem to be established at the perimeter.”

Nessa stopped and looked at Trism and then to Galinda, “Very well, Trism. You may be excused.”

It was not until after Trism left the room that Nessa let out a sigh of relief and then moved her eyes to meet Galinda’s, “You truly are an ambassador of peace, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Galinda assured her, “and I will remain that, if you will continue to work with me. I know who you are, what you are, Nessa. There is no reason that Oz cannot have an open relationship with Munchkinland, one that does not impose a threat upon the freedom of your state.”

Nessarose pondered her words for a moment and then nodded, “Tell the Wizard that I am willing to meet with him to construct a treaty. Here in Munchkinland. I want you present and none others. There is no threat here to the Wizard and I want no threats placed upon me.”

Again, Galinda had to contain her happiness. She was sure that the Wizard would be exceedingly thrilled with her work, “I’ll send word as soon as it is arranged.”

xx

“Your Wizardness, Commander Cherrystone and his troops are on the move to the Emerald City as you requested.”

The Wizard lifted his eyes only for a moment from the book before him before casting his gaze downward once more, “And the Lady Galinda?”

“She has left Munchkinland as of this afternoon and is journeying back to Shiz as I instructed her to do so. The Munchkin Boq is with her. Early reports seem as though things have gone according to plan. We are awaiting full word from Officer Trism, of course.”

A smile turned up the corner of the man’s mouth, “And of the Arjiki Prince?”

“We have word that he was seen passing through Red Windmill early this morning. He was alone, just as we planned. Of course, the weather patterns in the Vinkus may have had influence upon those plans,” the woman added with a cunning grin, “the rain season seems to have extended greatly this year.”

“Yes, well, prepare for the rain season to come to an end. We have needs for Miss Elphaba soon. That will be all.” After Morrible left the chamber, the Wizard looked up to his map of Oz, complete without the so-called ‘Free State of Munchkinland’ lying separate. Though regaining Munchkinland was only the first part of his plans, it was arguably the most important. 

Everything was beginning to fall into place just as he had hoped it would and soon, he would have the most powerful person in all of Oz to carry out his wishes; with the life of her lover hanging in the balance, Elphaba would have no choice.


	20. Chapter 20

The rains were unrelenting. 

Elphaba had tried twice now to leave the castle, bundled in skirts and cloaks only to retreat back inside before ever crossing the drawbridge. The heavy rain only seemed to grow heavier when she tried to venture out of the castle. She felt like a helpless prisoner in her own home, a prisoner to the weather and a prisoner to her own thoughts.

It had been two days since Fiyero left her to deal with the accusations against him and there’d been no word from Chistery. As far as she know, Chistery could be dead in these violent storms. 

Fiyero could be dead.

Again, she peered out the window, searching for a sign that the storm was relenting when she spotted a cloaked figure, no more than a shadow against the soaked cobblestone, making their way to the castle doors.

Perhaps he was returning to her already, perhaps the storms have been too much to overcome.

Elphaba darted down the stairs to the heavy oaken door of the castle and pulled it open, waiting eagerly. Were it not for the rain, she’d already be in his arms.

The distance closed between them and from beneath the cloak, Elphaba was able to make out a face.

One that did not belong to her beloved.

She scrambled to close the door quickly on the unwanted invader but it was too late. She was thrown back from the force by the door being pushed in the opposite direction. Sinking to the floor, she raised her arms above her head, defending herself from the visitor.

“Well, well, well, look at what we have here,” whistled Avaric, “it’s been an awfully long time, don’t you think my sweet green monster?”

Even her breath trembled as she hid beneath her arms, anticipating his fingers tearing into the flesh of her arms. Of all the terrors she’d ever encountered in the Philosophy Club, he was the worst. She knew better than to plead with him, it had never done her any good before.

“You don’t have anything to say to me? I’m a bit disappointed, after all of this time apart. Did you miss me my little lizard?” He glanced around, sensing no other presence in the castle, “Or have you been busy playing house?”

There was a searing pain in her forearm as he dragged her up from the ground and wrapped one cold and wet hand around the bottom of her jaw, pulling her face towards his, “You answer when you speak, filthy little green slut.”

“Fiyero,” she managed to get out despite his grip, “he’s coming home. He’ll-“

“He’ll be sorely disappointed when he sees that you’ve left him,” Avaric grinned, pushing her into the wall. “I know that you’ve missed me, Elphaba. I could see it in your eyes the day we met in Shiz when you were parading around with Fiyero in that creamy white skin.”

Though she knew better, Elphaba struggled against him. She’d known that day that Avaric recognized her, it was why the Gale Force had checked the caravan. It had been him who turned her in. It had been luck that they’d gotten away.

Avaric leaned into her, lowered his voice to a threatening whisper, “Tell me how much you’ve missed me or I’ll make you pay.”

Elphaba opened her mouth to answer and then closed it again, feeling a rush of heat through her body. The book, it was calling to her. She lifted her foot and stomped on his, the heel of her boot coming solidly against his instep. She spit in his face and when he recoiled she turned to run up the stairs of the turret. 

Apparently the book was only a tool of convenience, not that she would complain if it helped her.

Wiping the saliva from his face, Avaric watched as she dashed up the stairs into the turret. He grinned and walked slowly after her. There would be no escape for her unless it was out a window and to her death, which suited him just fine. 

She was out of breath when she reached her room, her heart pounding half out of fear and half out of the physical exertion it took to run up so many stairs. With her remaining strength, she pushed the heaviest thing she could in front of the door, a small table that would no doubt hold the door for only a short time.

On the edge of her bed, the book laid in innocence but it was awake and she could tell it. Quickly she threw open the pages, rather, the pages it would allow her and she recognized the spell that she’d used to save Chistery’s life. With little time to debate the consequences of the spell, she began to read the words with more conviction than the first time. 

Elphaba braced herself, awaiting the pain that was sure to sear through her back from some sort of wings popping out of her flesh but it never came. She looked over the spell frantically, wondering if she had missed a word or some element that she’d used before. Once more she started to utter the spell but was disrupted by a broom, hold and dusty with slight mold at the edge of the straw, hovering in mid-air. Her eyes widened and she reached out for it, pressed her hand against it, as if to test its fortitude.

Almost as if it had a mind of its own, the broom pressed back up against her hand, annoyed by her distrust. She nodded at the broom, as if it could understand her newfound trust in the cleaning implement- what other choice did she have. She threw open the creaky old armoire that housed her clothing and pulled out two cloaks and a satchel.

The satchel went on first, and she deposited the heavy book into it before pulling on the two heavy cloaks. She started to pull on a pair of gloves but the door began to move and she could hear Avaric grunting at the effort of pushing it open.

Wordlessly, she scrambled to the windows and threw the shutters open, broom in hand. She carefully climbed up into the window sill and looked down. It would be a great fall to her death if the broom didn’t fulfill it’s promise. The door burst open as her doubts continued to overwhelm her. 

Avaric scoffed, “Are you mad? You’ll die if you fall from there.”

Elphaba’s hands gripped the broom tightly, in a vertical fashion so that the bristles her hovering just above her feet, “You’ll kill me anyway.”

“Not right away, I wouldn’t. And you’re worth much more if I bring you back alive,” he said, slowly advancing towards her, “imagine how painful your death would be that way. Lying on cold, wet concrete. You’d still be conscious when you hit the bottom. Every drop of rain-“

She pushed the broom back slightly so that the bristles were between her ankles now and she closed her eyes, “Stay away from me.”

“I think not,” he answered, lunging forward to take hold of her. At the same time, Elphaba jumped from the windows, her eyes still squeezed tight. There was no rapid descent though, only the feeling of the hard broom handle beneath her and a slight unsteadiness from Avaric, clinging to the end of it as they hovered a hundred feet from the ground.

She screamed as she clawed at the edges of her cloak, trying to pull her down with him but the broom shook of its own volition and she held on more tightly as it seemed to tip backward, just enough until-

With a shrill scream, Avaric’s grip on the broom was lost and he fell to the ground below with a sickening crack. Crimson mixed with the silvery water lining the cobblestones and she looked away, nausea and relief overwhelming her at the same time. 

Not even a moment later, Elphaba felt warmth on her face and looked to the east to realize that the violent storms that had been carrying on only minutes ago had not only moved out, they’d completely dissipated. The sunlight was nearly offensive after so many weeks of its absence. She reached to ensure that the Grimmerie was still in the satchel over her shoulder and upon the assurance that it was still there, she leaned forward, willing the broom in the direction that Fiyero had traveled in.


End file.
